1000 Firsts
by Suma99
Summary: Every reality is different. Every decision is always made in a thousand other worlds. Some have the gift to see those worlds. Fifty firsts in twenty different relationships, all involving the same two people. Memories tie-in. Logan/OC.
1. Meeting

_Disclaimer: This is a __**fan**__fiction site. Do you really think I own this?_

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><p><em><strong>A.N. <strong>This story came about from my main story Memories. In Memories, you catch a glimpse of alternate realities and how life has played out for the main character there. Here, I'm going to write about twenty different realities and how firsts in Logan and Tora's (or Marie and James' or Torao and Logan's or Marc and Jane's or…well, you get the message) relationships. Each piece could be 50 words or a thousand. Some situations may change, especially in more primitive realities. Also, there probably won't be any real timeline to this, as each relationship goes at a different pace. So first up, twenty first…_

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><p>Meetings<p>

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><p><em>Earth-618 –Memories<em>

The doors fell in on themselves and Logan staggered as the stench hit him. The walls were covered in gore. A massacre had obviously taken place there. And at the opposite end of the long room was a cage. There was a figure there, but whoever it was appeared to have collapsed. There was a chain holding his head up. As they got closer Nightcrawler gasped out loud, shattering the silence.

"Is that a…a child?"

The figure looked up. Fierce golden eyes glared out of a grubby and bloodstained face. Rough, filthy hair framed a face that was obviously that of a young woman. But the eyes that burned and accused were like Logan's only deeper. Someone who had suffered and screamed and in the end given up. Storm moved closer, reaching for the cage door only to withdraw her hand as the woman within snarled and snapped, revealing sharp canines.

"Ororo, for all we know, this woman might be responsible for this…massacre. I don't think you should…"

"Scott, this is a child. She is scared. Let her be."

As the others bickered about the girl, Logan crouched down, so his eyes were level with the girl's. They sat there for a while, just looking at each other. Wolverine spoke first.

"I reckon you'll understand me. It hurts doesn't it? I guess you're like me 'cos they put you in an adamantium cage…"

Gradually the others noticed what he was doing and turned to listen. The words soon dropped into the background. It was simply the tone that mattered. The way you talked to a spooked animal. The girl never broke eye contact with Wolverine, just stared at him, gaze never wavering from his face. Finally she spoke.

"Please…get me out… I can't stay here any longer…He will return soon. Please."

Logan sensed rather than saw the others' shudders. Who was the "he" she referred to with great fear? Storm began the slow job of picking the lock as the others took turns to keep watch. The girl…so hard to think of her as a woman…moving restlessly. She seemed unable to remain still, so unlike the corpse-like figure they had seen when they first entered. She was odd. There was something about the unblinking eyes that unnerved him. It wasn't the feline pupils, or the unnatural golden colour. No he was fine with that. It was the look of years in her eyes. The same look that he saw in the mirror every morning, only the outer layer had none of the steel. But look further and you saw the metal, unbreakable.

The door swung open and with a swift tug, Colossus broke through the chains. She collapsed. Piotr passed her out and Kurt gently held her up. Storm offered her an arm but the girl pushed it away, managing to stand. She swayed slightly but then steadied herself. She began to walk away, towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not going to hurt you. Everything I touch dies. That or it hurts me. He'll be back soon. I have to run. Have to get away. Have to escape. Have to be free. Never been free before. Wonder what it is like to be free."

He was there first.

"Kid, you're a walking corpse. We'll get you out of here. Don't worry, we'll look after you."

The girl withdrew, fear in her eyes as a figure rose up out of the darkness and thrust a clawed hand through his chest. The girl screamed, her hands bunching into fists as Logan dropped into darkness.

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><p><em>Earth 1610 –Ultimate<em>

She stepped off the jeep, shielding her eyes from the sunlight. An American private stood to attention.

"Ma'am."

She nodded curtly. Very few people knew the **real** reason she was here. As an SOE operative, she had to be careful. Hiding in a camp, in plain sight, searching for the mole who was the reason she was here. She shivered, despite the heat. War did this to people. She didn't know where her sister was, hadn't known since the annexation of France. She walked through the camp, avoiding the looks she was getting. She could do without a group of soldiers who hadn't had any female company for about a year chasing after her. Stepping into the tent, she saluted the commander.

"You the Special Services chap? Girl. Whatever."

"_Oui_."

"Name?"

She smiled, remembering the name she had been given just before leaving.

"_La Tigresse_."

"Real name."

"My real name **is** _La Tigresse_. Understand?"

"No. I am the commanding officer of this camp and I want to know who I'm talking to!"

"And I am the agent posted here to investigate the mole and **no one** is above suspicion. Not even you."

Suddenly a short man stepped in.

"Sir! Oh… Sorry Ma'am."

She turned and nodded at the Canadian Army Colonel, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"Colonel James Howlett."

"Pleasure to meet you. Section Leader Turner."

"Doesn't sound like a French name. You with the Wrens?"

"Yes."

He gave her another slight smile then turned his attention to his commander.

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><p><em>Earth-523 –Witchkin<em>

She cowered in the cage, eyes darting from person to person as the bidding increased, faster, more wild, reaching numbers higher than the previous lots. A hand reached in and she automatically swiped out a hand, knowing her long nails were a good enough defence just now. If she really needed to, she could tear them all to shreds. She snarled again, knowing that it was putting the less certain bidders off. Now there were only two left, a man covered in scars and another one surrounded by women, all in cages. Then a low, growling voice shouted out a price at least triple the bid right now. Silence. Then…

"SOLD!"

She tried to turn, to see the person who had bought her and then met with ice-blue eyes and a face-full of Wildling scent. A Wildling in a human settlement? Therefore, Packless.

"Calm. I'm a friend."

Low, quiet, spoken in the Wildling tongue to avoid others hearing.

"Pack-Traitor…"

He sighed and waved a hand, calling two others to come and lift the cage before carrying her to a man leaning by a fire. He gave a gap-toothed leer and smirked.

"A Darkwing purchase?"

"Yes."

She was tugged out of the cage, a knee went into her back and her loose white robe was torn down over her left shoulder. In her peripheral vision she saw the metal being pulled out of the fire and then it **burned**. The blacksmith nodded in satisfaction.

"That won't heal up for a while. Just come down to get it redone when it heals."

She tried to struggle but his hands suddenly pressed down on her neck.

"I am taking you somewhere safe. Trust me."

"Packless cur!"

"Feisty little thing, aint she? What do you lot do with all the Witchkin filth up at Aingeal?"

"Work them."

She tried again to move but his fingers tightened and she knew if she wasn't Wildling, then he would have caused bruising.

"I'll take her over to the cart."

And she was suddenly in a dark and filthy cart, with a cover and which stank of other Witchkin.

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><p><em>Earth-671 –Powerless<em>

She lay in the alley, blood pouring from the knife wounds on her face, from her scalp where her hair had been pulled, from her arms where his fingernails had dug in and running down her legs. She **hurt**. It hurt so much. And she wished for a second that those stupid heroes from those stupid comics were real, all those hours she had spent reading comics as a child, reading about Spider-Man and Iron Man and who knew what else, wished they were actual facts, not just works of fiction. Cold. She was **so** cold.

"Who's there?"

A man at the end of the alley.

"Hello?"

She didn't answer, half terrified this person would be the same, half shocked out of her wits.

"Are you alright? What the-"

He was there and she was barely able to move, trying to cover herself.

"Who did this to you? Calm down. Look, I'm ringing the police."

The calm part of her brain, the part that always worked, no matter what, started supplying her with information. Canadian judging by accent. Slight hint of military in his bearing. Then a soft brush of leather, covering her up.

"What's your name? Look, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Ma- Ma- Mar-"

"Mary? Maria?"

"Ma- Marie…"

"I'm James. Now the police are coming. Everything's going to be fine."

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><p><em>Earth-987 –X-Change<em>

He barely raised his head when the voices sounded. Far too often they arrived, offering hope, a chance of escape. And it always turned out to be Madam Creed's idea of a joke, a piece of mental trickery that sent him deeper and deeper into despair. Then the door fell in and the part of him that Evan had sparked made a little dry comment.

_She's getting better._

Then a tall, black man with white hair reached out to open the door and a woman in blue with a red visor shook her head.

"Jorah, for all we know, this man might be responsible for this…massacre. I don't think you should…"

"Summer, this is a child. He is scared. Let him be."

A short woman in gold and tan leant down and looked into his eyes.

"I reckon you'll understand me. It hurts doesn't it? I guess you're like me 'cos they put you in an adamantium cage…"

He relaxed as the soft, low voice calmed him. Then tensed as she thought of Victoria Creed.

"Please…get me out… I can't stay here any longer…She will return soon. Please."

The woman nodded.

"Summer, he's not the one who did this. Jorah, can you pick the lock?"

The white-haired man nodded and then a blue, delicate face with pointed ears was in front of him.

"Who are you? I'm Kristina. They call me Nightcrawler. Summer over there, or Cyclops is our fearless leader. Jorah, Logan and Petra are over there. So, what's your name?"

Throat dry, he opened his mouth.

"I…I don't have one…"

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><p><em>Earth-9821 –Starcrossed<em>

He turned and someone barrelled into him.

"WEAPON X! I owe you a lot!"

He barely twisted round and saw distorting orange and black clothes and suddenly his face was slashed up.

"You monster! They turned me into this because of you!"

A woman, small, slight, spindly metal claws jutting from her hands, was staring at him. Magneto turned round.

"Tigress, I assume you wish to gain your vengeance on your predecessor and I will not interfere."

Logan gawped at her.

"How old are you?"

She laughed, cold and bitter.

"Twenty-two. I have been a weapon since I was two years old. You are as responsible as the men who strapped me down and turned me into this."

Then she slammed into him again and spun a kick.

"You're a monster Weapon X. A mass-murderer and a monster. And they tried to turn me into you."

"Er…you are allied to the terrorist Master of Magnetism."

She didn't answer, just punched him then kicked out. Snarling, he charged into her and they fell down from the roof, smashing into the ground. She leapt up and hit into him and he watched as her bleeding cuts started healing.

"Fight damn you!"

He shook his head, looking at a woman filled with hate, anger and pain. From where she had landed in the gravel, he could see a huge X-shaped scar criss-crossing across her back.

"I did this to you. I think that's the one thing I deserve to die for."

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><p><em>Earth-321 –Weapon Plus<em>

He turned towards her and she crouched low, ready to fight. She knew they liked doing this, the trainers, knew they liked to pit their charges against each other to see how well they fought. Wolverine was famed through the facility. She heard her trainer calling her name, trying to get her to fight. His lips parted up in a snarl and then he sniffed the air. She dropped down to all-fours, knowing for the quick run-up and kick-off the tree, beastlike was the way to go. He growled and she knew he was preparing to fight as well.

She leapt, hands meeting the trunk then kicking off when she brought her feet up. Wolverine snarled as he brought up his fists. What followed was plain animal brawling, biting, scratching with fingernails and one rather impressive point which involved her ramming her hands into his mouth and tugging, dislocating the jaw.

"STOP!"

She looked up, waiting for him to get off her, from the position where he was pinning her down. Ice-blue eyes stared into hers.

"Wolverine!"

His mouth moved down to her ear and suddenly a word was breathed out, in a voice that hadn't been used in years.

"Friend…?"

She choked on the response. She hadn't spoken since they hurt her with the adamantium.

"Friend…"

He released the pressure on her wrists and inhaled. She responded in kind and filled her nose with his scent, memorising it as one of a friend.

"Wolverine, get off!"

She rolled slightly, pushing him off and continued the introduction, gently inhaling his scent. They moved slowly, edging around one another, neither quite certain what to make of the other.

"Do you think…?"

"The boss's been wanting a pair. Those two are the best. Together…"

They ignored the guards as they learnt everything about the other through posture, scent and eye contact.

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><p><em>Earth-735 –Saviour<em>

She typed a few more lines onto the phone, hoping the notes she had taken would be enough to please JJ. He was a good employer, if a little overenthusiastic in his hatred of Spider-Man. At any rate, his handling of mutant coverage was, in her eyes, pretty well-handled. She flicked through her notes again.

_Dr McTggrt; why should we fear other ppl? FF and Avngrs accepted, why not X-M?_

She scrolled down to the bit where Professor Xavier had given his speech on peaceful cohabitation.

_The USA cndms dscrmntn agnst hmsxls, clrd, wmn & rlgous ppl, so why r mtnts any dffrnt? 1 extra chrmsne isn't reason to hate. Mst mtnts jst tryng to live nrml life. Who r we to dny thm?_

She opened and texted a message to Betty, knowing JJ **hated** texts.

_Cnfrnce a success. Expct article by 2morow mrng. MC_

She let the rocking of the train sooth her. Her phone beeped again and she glanced down. A message from Betty.

_Parker get the photos?_

_Yeah. Wnt off on his own. Said he'll be back before 2 l8. M_

The man sprawled out on the seat opposite snorted loudly and a bottle slipped from his hand.

_Drunk on trn wth me. Want to get cffee l8r?M_

She froze as something cold and metal pressed to her forehead. Barely glancing up, she saw a man, gun in hand.

"Hand over your cash."

She shrugged.

"If there's any money in my bag, you can have it. I doubt it though. Mutant correspondent at the Bugle doesn't pay well."

"And the phone."

"Not a chance in hell."

The muzzle of the gun suddenly jabbed forward.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I said, not a chance in hell. I understood that and English isn't my first language. I've just spent three hours at a boring conference in the hope of hearing Professor Xavier talk and all my notes are on this phone. I am **not** giving it up."

The man opposite groaned and the second would-be mugger slipped out another gun while the first rammed the gun further into her hair.

"I **said**, give me the phone!"

"And I said, **no**. Seeing as you don't seem to understand English, I will try in other languages. _Non_, _nicht_, _nie_, _niet_."

She wondered for a second why they hadn't realised something was wrong yet. They were threatening her and she was totally calm. If they threatened the man, no matter how drunk and noisy he was, she would probably have to resort to the claws. The gun was jabbed into the paper that was covering his face.

"Got any money?"

"Go 'way… jus' sleepy…"

"I said, you got any money!"

Suddenly, two things happened. Marie leapt up, span round and elbowed her aggressor in the face as the drunk man who now didn't look **anywhere **near as drunk now moved fast and his attacker was curled up on the floor, cradling his stump of a wrist. Marie stared at the smooth metal claws.

"Wolverine!"

"Yeah. So what?"

Suddenly someone caught her around the neck and pulled her back onto the gun.

"Take one more step and I'll shoot! I swear!"

"I'll count to ten, **bub **and then…"

Marie spun round and pinned the man to the wall of the train, twisting the now extended claws to hold his clothes into the metal. She pulled her hand away and let the bone claws register in his mind before sheathing them. Wolverine just stared at her.

"You were at that conference."

"Yes. I'm a reporter. It's my job."

He pointed at the knuckles that were slightly tinged with blood.

"They natural?"

"Yours?"

"Don't know."

"Well yes they're natural."

He frowned then held out a hand.

"What?"

"Phone. I reckon Chuck would love to meet you."

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><p><em>Earth-3799 –Teaching the Gifted<em>

"Mr Circen, you do appreciate that all the students at this school are geniuses. Your credentials are impressive and Etana was more than happy to hire you. The Languages Department is one of our smallest as Ms Howlett teaches German, Russian, Japanese and Etana Toledano speaks fluent Hebrew, Yiddish, Hindu, Mandarin, Swahili, Arabic, Polish and Latin, although I'm not entirely certain we **have** Latin on the syllabus."

He nodded.

"I understand."

"Your CV is impressive. French, Spanish, Italian, Greek and Portuguese."

"Languages come easily to me."

"The Xavier School for the Gifted has some thirty teachers and one-hundred and fifty pupils. We aim to give the students the best education possible. As one of the teachers, you will be expected to live in the rooms we will provide. There are a number of rules that your Departmental Head will happily explain. And I believe that Ms Howlett has just arrived."

"Charles, has the new teacher… Ah."

Marc could **feel** the newcomer's eyes trailing across all of him. She was in her mid-thirties, had messy black hair and pale blue eyes. Then she grinned.

"Jane Howlett. I'm one of your colleagues. One of two actually. Etana's my boss. She's great but a little…eccentric? Would that be the word?"

Professor Xavier started laughing, his whole body shaking in the wheelchair.

"Yes, I believe that would be the word for our redoubtable Dr Toledano."

Marc glanced up.

"Pardon?"

"Fifty-six years old and still acting like a woman in her twenties. You'll get used to her but to begin with, she's a little…full-on?"

"I blame Captain Rogers."

"What?"

"She was involved with a childhood friend when she was sixteen and it was serious. He signed up for Vietnam in '72, aged seventeen and wrote home every week. One day on leave, in '74 he asked her to marry him, she said yes, he went back to 'Nam and the month after that- wham. Missing in Action, presumed dead. She spends forty-five years throwing herself into work and then suddenly news comes in last year. A group of mercenaries found an American in the middle of the jungle, who had a load of love letters from an Etana Toledano. He came home and she was still waiting for him. She disappears off every weekend."

"Oh…err…that's…nice?"

Jane laughed and stuck out a hand.

"Just don't get her started on Steve Rogers. We'll be hanging about all day!"

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><p><em>Earth-21267 –Agents of SHIELD<em>

"Nick…"

"Logan, I know you hate working in a team, but she **is** the best."

"I haven't got time to take some rookie round with me, always keeping an eye out for them!"

"Logan, she is just as good as you at half the age… She's the Weapon X girl…"

Logan rounded on Fury.

"I thought she was being sent home! Not kept here! That makes us as bad as them!"

"She requested to stay!"

"That's cos she doesn't know any better!"

"Well then, you can try to persuade her otherwise."

"But…"

"No buts Logan. Ah, Tora, come in."

The young woman in the pristine SHIELD uniform stepped in, her hair pulled up in a tight bun. She stood neatly to attention.

"Logan, Tora. Tora, this is Logan. He's your new partner."

She gave him a shy smile.

"Hello Sir."

"Don't call me sir, 'kay? We're partners, I'm not your boss. That's Nick's job."

She smiled again.

"Thank you. I adm-"

"Don't say it!"

"What?"

"Don't you dare admire me because of what I was!"

She nodded.

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><p><em>Earth-6176 –Opposites<em>

She changed her step automatically, entering the bathroom as a blond, glamorous socialite, leaving as a mousy-haired secretary carrying a clipboard. Her face shape had changed completely, courtesy of pads and she added an extra half-foot onto her height with a carefully hidden heel. Glancing down again, she looked at the small photo of her mark. Turning her head again, she saw him and inhaled, getting his scent. Stepping into the lift, she pulled the wig off, revealing her short red and black hair. Stepping out, she timed it perfectly, slamming right into him and causing both their papers to fly everywhere. Blushing, she started scooping up her papers and timed it perfectly, reaching out for a sheet the same time he did. Their eyes met and she smiled shyly, hoping the mark wasn't suspicious. Well, he was a spy, so he would be suspicious but if she appeared casual enough, he wouldn't suspect her job was actually to fake falling in love with him then to kill him. As such she was totally unprepared for the sheepish smile she got in return.

"Er…I'm Logan. Do you… Do you **work** here?"

"It's my first day."

"Do you…want me to show you around?"

"Thank you. I'm Tora."

Standing up, they shook hands, both totally unaware that their target was intending to kill them.

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><p><em>Earth-19 –Being Normal<em>

Logan turned and stared.

"Who's the chick following 'Ro around?"

Remy and Kurt both turned from their positions by the lockers. Remy stared as well and Kurt grinned, his blue face splitting into a wild grin.

"New girl. French. Marie Circen. She's in our year, in class 9B1. Her sister's coming next year apparently. I was at the office."

Remy whistled appreciatively.

"Remy's so glad he's in A1. That girl? Won't know what hit her."

Kurt sighed.

"Real smooth Gambit. But I don't think Rogue will like that and she **can** turn you into a braindead, drooling idiot."

Logan smirked.

"So not a real difference at all?"

Remy laughed.

"Yeah, Anna's great. Hey Lo, since you split up with 'Ro, you're free. **And** you're in B1. Come on, admit it, she's hot."

Ororo sailed up beside them.

"Logan, you're in B1 aren't you? Can you show Marie around for a week? I would, but I'm in A2 so I won't share any classes except the training."

"You're training in the DR already? That's impressive."

Marie smiled, her golden eyes flashing.

"I go to a school in London that has facilities for mutant _enfants _but the Xavier Institute is the…_meilleur_… sorry, my English is no good…"

Remy grinned.

"_Je parle français._"

Smiling broadly, Marie launched into a rapid burst of French then Remy responded before turning.

"She was at the Excalibur Academy and they sent her here as her gifts and her control of them were better than the facilities there allowed for."

Logan gave her his best 'charm' smile and noticed 'Ro rolling her eyes.

"Oh, Marie, watch out for Logan. He's got a bit of a bad boy reputation."

Marie's eyes flicked up over him.

"Really?"

And Logan really hoped the flash he saw in her eyes was interest.

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><p><em>Earth-40 –DragonBound.<em>

He fell into an easy lope, all four legs pounding away at the hard ground. He was nearing Cat territory but he was the Wolf-Prince and needn't fear overgrown kittens. No werecat could harm him, unless he met the DragonBound. And that was highly unlikely. According to their spies, the old DragonBound had died only a few years ago. Logan's father had muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'two hundred years too late'. The new dragon, a pale blue Serpentine had chosen a female who was only just out of her kit years, who came from one of the outlying tribes.

Snorting, Logan grinned. The Cats relied too heavily on their pact with the Dragons. All the great beasts did was drop off an egg each time the old Dragon and their Bound died then left again. At least the Phoenix was unique. When the old Phoenix Wolf died, the bird burst into flames and a chick was born from the ashes. All the Packs would search for a female cub born the same time as the old Wolf died and bring her to the Phoenix. Bonding was usually swift and instantaneous and the Wolf's Pack would soon become the First amongst them all. The present Phoenix Wolf, Jean, was about the same age as him.

Suddenly he stopped and Shifted to his biped form. A Cat girl leapt out of the tree, her clan markings; natural variations in the pigment of the skin, proclaiming her to be Tiger. Her golden eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing here, Wolf-Boy?"

He bristled at her offhand tone.

"I'm one of the Howlett Pack, Kitling. We are the foremost Wolf Pack."

"Yes, until your precious Phoenix Wolf dies and then power shifts to whoever has some poor female who was born when the last one died."

"You parade your kits in front of a **rock**, hoping that some scaly reptile will hatch for them."

She snarled and he suddenly questioned the wisdom of calling a dragon a 'scaly reptile'.

"Draturo is nothing of the sort!"

He got a sinking feeling. Only the DragonBound could call the Dragon by name. And the new DragonBound was a Tiger female.

"Prepare to suffer, Dog-Boy."

She Shifted and suddenly a large blue dragon, with scales that shimmered like water bugled a call and twisted in the sky, landing lightly in a way that belied his bulk, his elongated body stretching out. He tilted his head and his silver eyes fixed on the lithe tiger. She made a little whining noise and sharp white teeth bared. A little unsatisfied grunt and then she Shifted back.

"You were lucky Draturo was here, Wolf-Prince."

Damn, she knew who he was.

"Stay away from my land, Dog-Boy. Or we **will** go to war."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-1813 –First Impressions<em>

"Mr Howlett, may I present my daughters, Marie and Eloise. Sit **up** girls."

The raven-haired girl did so instantly but the red-haired woman glanced up at her mother before sighing and doing as she was told.

"I apologise for Marie. Her father spoils her so and she is most wilful."

Her golden eyes ran over him coolly and he had the impression that she was very much the ice-maiden.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Mr Howlett. Mother, Miss Grey is calling me I believe."

She stood up and walked away, bobbing slightly to a passing man. James watched her go, smiling slightly. If her mother's reaction was anything to go by, Miss Circen knew all about the copper fortune from the colonies and the fact he was the ward and heir apparent of Lady d'Ombre, who was reportedly one of the richest women in the country. And unlike every other woman at the dance, she couldn't care less. A young man skittered past him and spoke to Eloise Circen. She giggled and rose, going to dance with him.

Casually, James sauntered over to Kurt, the young German he had met in London and formed an instant friendship with.

"Enjoying yourself?"

The young man's face lit up. He didn't know it, but when Lady d'Ombre had discovered her ward's new friend, she had been delighted that a relative had finally come to the country.

"_Ja_. The dance is _wunderbar_."

"See the woman in blue, talking to the one is green?"

"Both red-heads?"

"Yes. What have you found out about her?"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-891 –Divided<em>

She sat on the stool, considering whether to get another drink, when hot breath gasped down her neck.

"Hey gorgeous."

"Go away."

"That isn't very nice. You don't even know me."

She did her best to ignore him but that got harder with every passing second. Then he grabbed her arm.

"Give us a kiss darling1"

"Get. Off. Me!"

"Not until you give me a kiss!"

"No bub, yer going ta do as the lady says."

"And who er you?"

"The guy who'll make you."

"Yeah right."

Then the short, hairy man launched into the man who had been bothering her. She backed off, unsure of how to proceed, thankful for the stranger's care but also being a bit grumpy with herself for needing him to interfere. The newcomer delivered a blow to her harasser's mouth and he dropped. Her helper turned towards her and she took in the blue eyes and broad mutton-chops.

"You didn't have to do that…"

He shrugged.

"Yer don't treat a broad like that. At all."

"A fellow countryperson down here?"

"Yer Canadian?"

"Quebecois. You?"

"Albertan. I'm Logan."

"Marie."

He grinned.

"Want to have a drink?"

She smiled broadly.

"If you pay…"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-10005 –Movieverse<em>

The door creaked open and suddenly a pair of brown eyes stared into hers.

"#*$- Who did this to you?"

She blinked, half opened her mouth, then retched, throwing up half-digested flesh torn from her arm.

"Stryker…"

"Who are you?"

"I…I don't know… I think… I think I'm Tora…"

"I'm Logan. You want me to get you out?"

She nodded and suddenly shiny metal claws shot out and cut through the chains.

"Weapon X…"

"What?"

"You're…You're Weapon X…"

His eyes widened and then her vision blacked out. Just before she fully surrendered, she felt warm arms pick her up.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-881 –Ξ and X<em>

He found her crouching in the sewers, her claws coated in blood, a look of shock on her face.

"Hello."

She started, stumbling backwards.

"I'm Logan. Don't be scared…"

"I ran. They're going to punish me."

"Who are you?"

"X- X- Xi…"

"Calm down Xi. If you come with me, I can help you."

"I… I… I killed him…"

"I know."

"I…I didn't **want** to! They made me!"

"Who did?"

"The Professors."

"Look, I'm going to take you somewhere you'll be safe…"

She skittered backwards.

"That means custody, doesn't it?"

"To be honest, you did just kill a Presidential candidate."

"They made me!"

"I know. No one's going to hurt you."

She shuffled forward, as if amazed.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-8076 –Wolverine &amp; Shadow + Marie<em>

The man grabbed her arm and tugged her along.

"Come along! Hurry!"

She let him drag her along, leaping with him over the buildings and allowing him to push her under a block as he stabbed one of their pursuers. They leapt off the building and then arms caught the man's chest and a woman's voice started scolding.

"Logan, I've told you a thousand times, you can't just go around picking up pretty red-heads on missions. What about that time in Venice? I was picking up the pieces for a **week**!"

Wolverine and Shadow. Counterparts of the famed Invaders, only apparently a lot more covert. They slid along behind enemy lines, taking out concentration camps. No one knew **quite** what they were or how they were related to each other. The scolding of the woman suggested a mother-son relationship rather than the much more popular couple theory abounding.

"Like I said Logan, I can't go around picking up after your flings. Remember that **lovely** Russian girl. You know, the one who turned out to be a spy?"

"Yes Etana, I know."

"If it could help, I can fight. I'm not defenceless."

"Brilliant, a girl with a little martial arts training who thinks she's capable of standing with us."

"Don't **think**. **Know**."

Slender bone claws slid out. The steady beat of wings faltered and they fell slightly. Logan –was that his name? –gawped at her.

"Red-headed girl with claws of bone, shall turn the two to three. Bring peace unto the Angel Dark and love for the Wolfling Cub."

Marie was **pretty** sure she saw the Shadow roll her eyes.

"I **do** know the riddle Logan. I **was** told it before you were born."

"But…"

"Right. Miss- er…"

"Marie. Marie Circen."

"Right Miss Circen. This may hurt."

And the Shadow teleported, momentarily crushing Marie's ribs.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-2182 –Professor W's X-Men<em>

Her eyes flickered open and she groaned. A cool hand was placed on her head.

"Calm down. Logan brought you here a week ago. I'm amazed you survived. I am Charles Xavier. And this is my school."

She glanced around at the gleaming white room.

"What?"

"Hank, will you come in?"

A blue monster stepped in but somehow she didn't seem afraid.

"Are you Professors?"

"I'm a doctor. Charles here is a professor."

She shuffled away.

"We're not going to hurt you. Logan, will you come in?"

A short dark-haired man stepped in and something about his scent calmed her.

"Hey. You alright?"

She suddenly became aware that she was clean and the aged blood had been chipped off. She looked at hands that had been carefully cleaned, nails trimmed and scrubbed. Blinking, she shook her arm, shaking off the sleeve and revealing the arm, criss-crossing scars carefully bound up.

"Why did you do that?"

"What?"

"Cut yourself?"

She shook the sleeves back over her arms, hoping they wouldn't ask anymore.

"Child, as long as you wish, you can stay here."

She glanced up, eyes dark.

"Really?"

"Really. Logan, would you…"

He gestured and the man grabbed his chair and wheeled him round… the Professor was a paraplegic, something that confused her. Professors weren't kind. Not unless they were going to start hurting her.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6751 –Age of X<em>

She snarled, the blood on her teeth and hands sending the less extreme rioters back. She snarled again, knowing she looked terrifying, with her loose white robe and trousers splattered with blood and streaks of gore on her face. She wondered whether they were feeling fear. She hadn't felt fear for many years. Not since they tore into her brain and destroyed the areas that emotions originated from. She supposed she should feel violated, angry, maybe ashamed but they were just **words**. Emotions were the response of a body in control of the mind. The mind should be in total control of the body. And they had wanted total control of her mind.

Then suddenly a black angel swept down and the people screamed even more.

"Hello little sister. I am the Shadow."

The blade spun round in a circular motion, sending people running backwards.

"Follow Logan, he'll get you to the Fortress. I'll buy you time."

A man stepped beside her.

"Etana, you're always too soft on them."

"I have a reputation as a deadly and fearful warrior darling. Killing mostly harmless sapiens wouldn't help my reputation at all. Off you go."

He grinned at the Shadow.

"Of course, **mother**."

Laughing, the woman in red pulled out a bow that she shook to unfold then strung it, nocked an arrow and pointed it at a person's face.

"Anyone move, and I shoot! Right dear, scuttle off."

The man smiled at her and grabbed her hand.

"You the one responsible for the deaths up at the White House?"

She nodded.

"Good job. Half those stuck-up generals couldn't care less about us. Want to wipe us out. I assume you were the one they wanted to do it with?"

She nodded.

"Must feel awful, knowing you were trained to kill your own kind."

"I don't feel."

"What?"

"They stopped me feeling. I cannot feel emotions."

He faltered and turned. And let out a long expletive of curse words.

"I don't believe it! I don't %$&#*£ believe it! We'll find a way of fixing that!"

She smiled and a flicker of something odd rang inside her.

"They wanted an emotionless killing machine. Well, they have one. And I'm going to kill them all."


	2. Coffee

_Disclaimer: This is a __**fan**__fiction site. Do you really think I own this?_

* * *

><p>Coffee<p>

* * *

><p><em>Earth-618 –Memories<em>

She sat quite still, knowing he was staring at her.

"What is wrong?"

"You're just a kid, aintcha?"

"No I am not a child. A child hasn't seen what I've seen. Done what I've done."

"Gotcha a coffee."

She smiled slightly, accepting the cup and inhaled the scent.

"Love this stuff."

"Yeah. First time you tried it you forgot to swallow."

"I never used to drink anything but water. You have so much choice here. Ororo went shopping and there was an entire **aisle** of coffee!"

"Yes, she said you went crazy. The cupboard over there is still bulging."

"I wanted to decide on a coffee I liked. I only chose the ones with the nicest smells."

He grinned and slid into the chair opposite.

"I admit, I liked the Sumatran Black Bean. You decided on a favourite yet?"

"I like the Kenyan. And pretty much everything else."

He laughed and took a gulp. She had the cup held possessively in front of her, just below her mouth, as if she were afraid someone would steal the precious beverage within.

"I'm not going to steal it."

She blushed and set the cup down.

"I'm sorry. I'm used to having everything food and drink wise being taken from me before I'd eaten fully. It was their way of telling me everything was only there because they let me have it."

He reached out and rested a hand on hers.

"We're not going to take away your stuff. I promise."

She smiled oddly.

"Everyone here says that."

"That's because it's **true**."

* * *

><p><em>Earth 1610 –Ultimate<em>

She sat nursing the enamel mug, eyes staring into the murky depths. Colonel Howlett sat down beside her.

"Terrible joe, aint it Turner?"

"That it is Colonel."

"First thing I'm doing when this war is over is buying as much of this stuff as I can. What do ya miss most?"

She considered.

"I think I miss the ability to be normal the most."

He nodded.

"Any losses?"

"My father was killed at Dunkirk. My sister is missing, somewhere in France, almost certainly dead. My mother, I do not wish to think of and as for my best friend… Better she had died at birth like she almost did."

"Jewish?"

"Yes."

He bit his lip and swirled his coffee mug around.

"Er… I'm getting leave to go into the town next week. Do you have any leave?"

"No."

He sighed and returned to his mug.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-523 –Witchkin<em>

The wooden beaker was slammed down.

"Drink."

She glared at the man opposite, her eyes dark with hatred and disdain.

"I do not drink with Pack Traitors."

"I'm not a Pack Traitor."

"You walk amongst the humans. You are Pack Traitor."

"I am not Pack Traitor, Wildling!"

"You act as if you are not Wildling. Therefore, you are Pack Traitor."

A tall thin Witchkin woman stepped into the room. She was one of the more obvious ones, with inky black fur, huge black wings and silver eyes and hair. She blinked.

"Logan, what **is** it with you and attractive red-heads?"

"Porter was bidding against Stryker for her! She's Wildling! You can't put a Wildling in the arena because they **will** fight to the death and I couldn't let Porter take her to the brothel! Either way, she'd be dead before the week was out!"

The women leant back, staring at Tora. Then she began to speak in fluent Wildling.

"I am Etana. This is Aingeal. You are safe here as long as you don't try and escape. We have a large area of forest that, once you can be trusted, you can roam in as you please. However, escape **will** be treated as a severe offence, because you'd be captured again and the punishment for a runaway slave is death, no matter what. We can't help that but it happens none the less. We won't chain you if you promise not to attack others and we'll feed you more than enough. We'll give you a job so you have something to do but after work, the time is yours."

Tora's lips slid back in a snarl.

"I will not bow to humans!"

Sighing, Etana leant forward.

"There **are** no humans here. I am Etana Darkwing, Lady of this castle. Now drink. Tomorrow, we'll find you a job. Logan, make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

Surprised, Tora did as she was commanded, choking on the hot, dark beverage.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-671 –Powerless<em>

She sat, gazing out at the street. James came over and placed the cup down.

"I'm sorry about that. I wasn't certain when the lessons started."

"It's fine."

"It was very kind of you to stay behind to get me started."

"Yeah well, I think you deserve some good luck."

"And…thank you at the trial…"

"Any fool could see it was upsetting you. They should have sent you out earlier."

She smiled and swirled the coffee around in the Styrofoam cup.

"You know… most men would say it was my fault… You know, after what happened…"

"How could that be your fault? You were walking home and he came at you with a knife."

He had his eyes fixed on her face, something she felt insanely glad of. Everyone else just looked at the left side, didn't look at all or stared. He looked at her normally, as if there weren't huge scars on her face.

"So… Going out for coffee and I've just realised I don't know anything about you. Other that what was on the news."

"I'm Marie Circen. I'm twenty-six, was born in Provence and moved to the States aged five when Papa got a transfer to NASA from ESA. I have a sister who's younger than me by five years, who considers herself American. I work at the learning centre. You know, for the people who move here for employment and either don't speak English or can't read and write. I mainly work with the adults and teach English, French, Spanish and basic Italian."

"You can speak all that?"

"I find languages easy. That's all."

"That's all? Marie, that's amazing! You do all that?"

"It's just a **job**. How about you?"

"Like you, I'm not American. I'm Canadian. Born in Alberta. Suppose you could call me a spoilt rich kid. But I joined up at nineteen and my parents pretty much disowned me. Got shot, invalided out, went to Japan, spent five years there. Came back, set up the dojo with a friend from Japan. 'Tana's great. She was the one who got me lodgings in Kyoto. She's a historian and she pretty much funded the dojo. I just teach there."

"So, you've known her…"

"Eight years. Met her the first day in Japan when I got lost. No way would I have stayed as long as I did without her. And I'm thirty-two before you ask."

She smiled and he pointed at her cup.

"Is that okay? You just haven't drunk much."

"No James, it's fine. I was just more interested in you than the coffee."

He laughed at that.

"Poor you. I'm really quite boring when you get to know me."

"No, I don't think you are. Because you're the only person who doesn't either treat me like a china doll or a… well, the way the people who say it was my fault treat me."

"I thought you'd appreciate a bit of normality."

She nodded slightly.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-987 –X-Change<em>

Logan spun round, holding the cups.

"Here Torao."

"Thank you."

The short woman plonked herself down in the chair opposite.

"You okay here?"

"I think so."

"Lottie's great."

"Lottie?"

"Yeah. Almost everyone calls her Prof or Charlotte. I don't hold with that sort of stuff."

"I thought Logan was a male's name."

"It can be both, although it's rare for a woman."

"Why is that your name?"

"I don't know. I wake up, naked, in the middle of the woods, only knowing the name 'Logan' and that I kill people."

His golden eyes dropped.

"I don't mean it like that. Sorry Torao. It's a little…difficult to talk about it. I could be anyone at all. A solider, a spy, a housewife, a prostitute and I wouldn't know. At least you have some sense of identity?"

"Xii? Xii was a defence, not an identity. I was nobody before then. Xii was just my way of naming myself."

Logan leant back, hauling her feet onto the table.

"Yeah. I reckon Logan's the same. But right now, it's all I got. So I keep it."

His eyes seemed confused. Logan sighed.

"It's better for you. Least you know that you don't have kids or anything out there. I could, for all I know."

He blinked.

"Kids?"

"Look, I've found out about eight things about my life in the time since I woke up in the woods. One, I have a metal skeleton and claws. Two, I'm good at killing people. Three, I've a history in the Army and covert-ops. Four, I can swear like a guy when I'm angry, Five, I can speak Japanese, German, Russian, Arabic, Chinese and Spanish. And can swear like a guy in most of those as well. Six, I've been to a lot of countries and quite a few people know me. Seven, I've **always** known I was Canadian. Eight, I've almost certainly had previous guys. And knowing the kind of guys I like, I almost certainly have kids somewhere."

Torao frowned.

"I wasn't asking."

"You aren't the type to judge, are you?"

He shook his head.

"I don't know what **I **am. Not really. How can I judge others?"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-9821 –Starcrossed<em>

As soon as he stepped into the coffee shop he knew she was there. He span around and was totally unprepared for the sight he saw. Tigress, the member of Magneto's Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, was sitting by the window, drinking a cappuccino and looking for all the world like a stylish young professional enjoying a break. She glanced up and sighed.

"I'm not going to fight you."

He stomped over and glared at her.

"What are **you** doing **here**?"

"I can have a coffee in a public shop, can't I?"

He glared at her. She waved a hand, beckoning a waitress over.

"A… You look like you don't like your coffee messed with… Black coffee, no milk or sugar. Charge it to this table."

He growled.

"What are you doing?"

"Hasn't it occurred to you that I may not like trying to kill each other every other week?"

He sat down, to avoid the stares.

"Why do you stay with Buckethead? He treats you like dirt. I've seen him."

"I owe him my life. He took me in, gave me a home and a name."

"What **is** your name?"

She grinned and sipped at her coffee.

"Guess."

He frowned.

"Katrina?"

"Far too obvious. Guess again."

"Mary?"

"Boring. Try again."

"Anne?"

"Wrong."

"You're enjoying this!"

"Of course I am, **Logan**."

"That ain't fair!"

"Life isn't sweetheart. Get used to it."

"Go on."

"I'm Tora."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-321 –Weapon Plus<em>

She inhaled the scent of the guards' drink as she padded around him, getting to know how he moved and shifted and looked. He was short and muscular, longish hair rippling down his back like a mane. Their clothes, for both of them, were simple strips of cloth offering only the most basic modesty, more for the guards' benefit than anything else.

He moved towards her and inhaled, face moving close to her neck. Instinctively she leapt away and snarled. The guards leapt up, spilling their drinks then sat down when he backed away, looking shame-faced.

_Sorry. Sorry._

His body language was apologetic but not submissive. She could tell he was trying to dominate her, to be the leader of their newly-formed pack. And she wasn't going to allow **that**. If anyone would be leader, it was her. She squared up, making it quite obvious she was neither weak or submissive. He snarled slightly and she slid her lips back over her teeth, deliberately aggressive, seeing whether he would back down. Then suddenly they were being pulled apart.

"Bad! Bad!"

She growled and her trainer sighed.

"Here you go Tig."

He held out the cup and she greedily gulped down the scalding hot coffee, a treat for when she was well behaved.

"No more fighting. Understand?"

She whined slightly, knowing it would appease him. He reached down and ruffled her hair.

"Yeah Tig. You and me both."

She glanced back up at Wolverine, expecting to see a slight smirk as to how she acted as her trainer wished. Instead he was staring at her enviously. Reaching out, she held out the still-warm cup. A peace-offering. Soft hands held around hers and the battered enamel mug was raised to his lips, blue eyes never leaving gold.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-735 –Saviour<em>

She sat quite still, just staring at Professor Xavier's face as he gave the lecture. Suddenly a hand caught on her shoulder and she jumped, twisting round.

"Oh… Hello. Again."

"Can I sit here?"

"Sure."

He grinned at her, flashing brilliant teeth.

"You here for the Bugle?"

"No. This is a personal thing."

He sat beside her and she knew his eyes were trailing over her, taking in the messy hair she had barely had time to pull up into a ragged ponytail, the crumpled clothes she'd swept up off the floor and the slight stain of make-up that she hadn't quite wiped away. She saw his nostrils flare and she guessed he smelt the morning coffee on her, the plants in her room and Mike.

In return, she inhaled and caught the scents. He lived with…three women, one of whom was in a relationship, six men, one of whom was the other part of the aforementioned relationship and a teenage girl. He smoked, cigars over cigarettes and drank.

He smiled slightly.

"Chuck's a great speaker, ain't he?"

She nodded. He seemed to guess she was more interested in the lecture than him and fell into contemplative silence. At one point, he got up and walked out. She continued listening, scribbling down a few of his best quotes for later use, knowing that she always **was** going to be a journalist at heart.

"Hey."

He held out a cup of coffee.

"Thought you might want a coffee."

"Thank you."

She was genuinely touched that, even after she had sort of brushed him off, he got her a drink.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-3799 –Teaching the Gifted<em>

The three of them sat together in the tiny departmental staff base, which was basically a room with a sink, kettle, cupboard, three mismatched armchairs Etana had bought cheap at auctions, a coffee table that had to be propped up with books and a pinboard. Chipped mugs were placed down and Marc's boss flopped into a winged armchair.

"You're a good teacher Circen."

"Are all the children as smart as that?"

"Oh no. You just had the top Language students. Most are normal at Languages and some are **hopeless**. Everyone is taught on ability here, so you'll have a couple of fifteen year olds in with the eight year olds."

Marc found it hard to not look at Etana. Her hair was silvery-grey, yet still appeared thicker than it should be. She noticed him staring and smiled.

"I used to have what people called 'gorgeous' black hair. I hit twenty and it went grey. Just like that. Pretty much in the course of a week."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Definitely helps improve the level of respect I get from pupils. When added to the Dr."

"So what did you do before this?"

Jane laughed, a warm, happy laugh.

"Pretty much everything under the sun. A translator for the UN, ended up stuck in Rwanda with the Peacekeepers after she only went along to translate for journalists. She's worked in the UN rooms as an interpreter and gone to war zones as a translator for various war correspondents and finally ended up teaching smart kids in a private school in Westchester."

"Well Jane, your history is almost as impressive. Jane here spent nearly ten years in the Canadian military as an interpreter and spy."

"I wasn't a spy! I was an **intelligence agent**! The spies were a completely different department."

Marc blushed.

"I feel like such an inexperienced child next to you pair."

Etana's joyful laugh was loud and full of meaning. In the few hours Marc had known her, he'd already gained the impression that there was nothing false about Dr Toledano. Everything was shown on her face and in her eyes.

"Well the reason for that Marc is I'm almost twice your age."

Jane smiled grimly.

"I'm a decade older than you, so don't worry too much. Anyway, spying is really quite boring."

"I thought it wasn't spying?"

"Damn!"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-21267 –Agents of SHIELD<em>

They were sitting in the canteen after their first training session together. Logan just staring at her. Finally, he spoke.

"Yer a good fighter."

"Thank you."

"How old were you when you learnt that?"

She shrugged.

"Eight? I'm not entirely sure."

"And that's the **exact** reason you shouldn't be here! Yer a kid, that's all! A kid who was forced to play at being an adult and now you are one, you keep on playing cos you don't know any better!"

Her paper cup slammed down, coffee slopping over the table as she stood up.

"I chose this life! I could have found my family but I decided to help others like me instead! I may not be a perfectly rounded person! I don't know anything about social or cultural quirks other than what they thought I needed to know! I **do** know how to fight though! And I decided to fight to help others like me, who were being manipulated! I am going to fight to prevent them doing this to another person!"

She turned to storm off and he caught her wrist.

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"You did."

"Please. Dammit kid, I'm no **good** at this sorta thing. Fury **knows** that. I've always worked alone and slightly outside the law. That's why he's head of SHIELD and I'm still a field agent, even though we've been here since the beginning pretty much. And I feel guilty, cos I volunteered for the adamantium bonding and you didn't have a choice. I agreed to do it for SHIELD. I went there, got the stuff implanted, spent a month in observation and left, going back to my job. They kidnapped you as a child and tried to turn you into a carbon copy of me. And that's the problem! I look at you and see me like I used to be, an idealistic kid who's about to leap into a world where everyone will hate you and treat you like dirt and it **hurts**. It hurts kid, cos I don't want to see you get trampled on. The world could do with a bit more innocence."

She sat down, eyes fixed on his.

"Fine. Just…please don't call me kid."

"Okay… Tora."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6176 –Opposites<em>

She sat there smiling shyly as they 'got to know each other'. Only both stories they told were lies. She wasn't a PR rep from Vermont any more than he was a HR manager from Montana. She was a spy, one of the best in the world. As was he. She couldn't kill him. Not yet, at any rate. Instead, she needed access to his flat, be able to find out what he knew. Unfortunately, the fastest way to do that would be to enter a relationship with him. Spies were careful. One night stands could blow an entire mission. She'd have to play her part, and play it well, so he had no reason to suspect her. She only knew his code name. Wolverine. Her controller had laughed at that. Sending a Tigress after a Wolverine? The High-Ups having a laugh, if they had a sense of humour.

"So Logan, what's your family like?"

"Don't have one. Orphaned from a young age, stayed in state homes my whole life. Obviously too ugly to adopt."

She laughed. If she were normal, not a spy, she'd consider him attractive. But it was all just a sham. She knew he was Canadian, from Alberta and his family had been murdered when he was twelve.

"So how about you?"

"Parents separated as when I was six. I ended up with my Gran. She died last year of liver cancer. I miss her a lot. Daft old woman, but I still loved her."

True in some ways. Indeed, she **had** been raised by her grandmother. Who had been killed by people determined to strike out at the Tigress. Marie had hunted them down and killed them.

"So, what are you doing **here** of all places?"

"My bosses sent me here to keep an eye on things."

"Oh, **management**!"

He laughed.

"No need to sound so impressed. I just do small stuff."

"Like?" Like killing people in the way, stealing secrets, being a spy.

"Like making sure there aren't any slackers."

She laughed.

"Do I have to be careful?"

He grinned.

"Not a chance. You look like a real work addict."

She smiled broadly back. If only he knew…

* * *

><p><em>Earth-19 –Being Normal<em>

She was sitting in the student hall, head bent over a book. Logan sat opposite her. She started.

"Oh. Hello."

"What are you studying?"

"Computing."

She slid the book across, showing a list of complicated looking code.

"Pascal."

"You like computers?"

He instantly kicked himself. He sounded like an idiot.

"Yes. Logical, analytical and stupid. You need imagination and creativity to get them to do what you want. There are rules but you need to make them work for you. I like Maths and Physics for that reason as well."

"Math**s**?"

"Sorry. I went to the Excalibur school. My English is British English that I picked up. I suppose you say **Math**."

He laughed at that.

"You're really quite the smart one, aintcha?"

"You have a problem with that?"

"No. You met Kitty Pryde or Hank McCoy?"

"Yes. Hank's in Physics, Biology and Chemistry. Kitty's in Computing and Physics. They're both very interesting people."

He grinned.

"I feel so thick. I'm hopeless at the Sciences."

"That doesn't mean you're thick. It just means your gifts are elsewhere."

"Etana says I have a gift for languages. She's my guidance counsellor. One of the oldest mutants in the world and she teaches History here at this school."

"Who?"

"The one with the black wings, fur and tail."

"Oh… She's the one who had me transferred."

"Yeah. Did she…do anything…odd?"

"Well… She said I **needed** to be here?"

"Etana won't confirm it but everyone thinks she's a precog. She always knows who the troublemakers are and drags them up before they do anything stupid. And she knew when the school was going to be attacked. Got everyone out and I don't know **what** she did but when we came back everything was perfectly clean except… well, I smelt blood. Lots and lots of blood."

She shuddered. Logan grinned suddenly.

"Have you used the coffee machine yet?"

"No. Is there one?"

"Over there. The hot chocolates are great. I don't think the coffees are the best though."

Marie laughed.

"I just need a caffeine fix."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-40 –DragonBound.<em>

The silence was heavy and he felt highly embarrassed. She was wearing the traditional Cat clothes, light bindings that could Shift with her. Knives hung from her belt and a swirling tattoo, a curling blue dragon up one arm that was silver over her black clan markings, seemed to emphasise the delicate muscles. She was apparently a skilled hunter in her own right, both in Cat and Human form. He didn't understand why he had to be the one sent to the Cat territory to be the ambassador. She was as haughty as she had been on the frontier, her dragon, **The** Dragon was the only one who calmed her down. And now he was expected to sit with her for an hour in an 'informal' meeting.

"I don't like you Dog Boy. And I know you hate me. So let's stop pretending."

He turned and snarled. The wooden cups were resting in front of him.

"I do hate you. You're superior because you have a link with a dragon."

"Have you ever flown Dog Boy? No, you wouldn't have. I have and it's the most perfect experience of all."

He stood up, hair bristling up in anger.

"You insult me?"

"Of course."

Her eyes darted with more than a little amusement.

"You're the only person in this whole damn place that doesn't treat me as a part of Draturo. To everyone else, I'm the DragonBound, which to them means I'm no longer Tora in my own right. You manage to insult me without upsetting Draturo."

"You like me because I **insult** you?"

She grinned.

"Of course. The coffee isn't poisoned by the way."

He drank it down in one gulp then suddenly retched and stared at her sparkling golden eyes.

"Much…"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-1813 –First Impressions<em>

She was sitting next to Miss Grey, held tilted slightly towards the book. James was slightly nervous. Yes, it was brilliant Kurt had taken such a shine to Miss Pryde and a quiet mention to Mr Pryde about Lady D'Ombre's relationship to him had cleared up **any** problems the Pryde's had about their daughter and a **foreigner**. But the best part was the close relationship between the Prydes and the Circens so James got to see a lot of the elder sister. His first impression was actually quite close, as she was apparently uninterested in company outside her tight circle of friends but he'd changed the reason from pride to shyness. She seemed quite open and friendly and Kurt had only glowing praise for her. Unfortunately for James, she seemed incredibly shy around him and wouldn't talk, preferring to walk away as soon as she could.

The Pryde's servant brought in the delicate tiny china cups with the coffee in them. James timed it so his hand reached out for the same cup as Miss Circen so their hands brushed. She blushed and changed cups instantly.

"Miss Circen, I apologise."

The blush spread up her cheeks.

"Mr Howlett… I would… Mr Wagner is looking for another to play whist. I cannot deny him."

She shot off, leaving the cup behind. James sighed, picked it up and followed her.

"I believe you left this."

She flushed as red as her hair. James took the opportunity to get a good look at her eyes. The eyes had been what attracted him to her in the first place. Soft, gold and glittering. And gradually he'd noticed a precision in her speech and movement, a pleasing aspect to her figure and style, a talent in music and reading, and best of all, treating him as if the copper fortune didn't exist at all.

Kurt grinned at him.

"Well James, I take it you shall not play. Too bad. I shall win for once."

It was to James' great amusement when Miss Circen beat Kurt, Miss Pryde and Miss Grey with no bother at all.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-891 –Divided<em>

"Can I ask you something Marie?"

"You just did Logan, but yes."

"What's your opinion on mutants?"

"Mutants? They're human beings. Just like you and me. They're nowhere near as bad as they're painted and the press manipulates it so it seems the minority who commit terrorist acts are the majority. Why? Because if you call me mutie-lover, I **swear** I will do something horrible to you."

He smiled slightly.

"I just wanted to know before I showed you."

A tiny sliver of metal slid out of one hand before slipping back in, so fast she almost didn't notice it.

"Oh…"

She smiled at him.

"And no, I'm not the sort of person who says one thing and does another. It's fine. No one can change how they were born. And mutation is not a disease. It's a gift."

He smiled and vaguely stirred his coffee, wondering why he felt she should be a mutant when she was most patently was **not**. The strip in her hair was natural but not a mutation. She smiled again at him.

"Are you thinking deep thoughts?"

"Nah. Not really."

"So Logan. What's a Canuck like you doing down here in the States?"

"I could ask **you** the same question."

"This is the best place to get a job as a programmer. Stark Industries picked me up when I left college."

"You work for Stark Industries?"

"I'm on Tony Stark's project team. No, don't look at me like that! He honestly is a genius, even if it took a while to prove to him I **really** wasn't interested. And yes, I would sue for sexual harassment if he made one more decoding remark."

He laughed.

"So, what's he like?"

"Really? Shows us all up. I get in the earliest and he's already at the desk, looking like he hasn't moved all night, trying to add to that insane pet project of his, thirty-six cups of coffee scattered across his desk. I've taken to buying him a cup of coffee each morning, just because he looks like he needs it. He never says thank you, but I think he…**suggests** it. Like, he doesn't flirt with me as much as the others on the team, actually treats me like a friend. He's a great man, and might one day actually be a good one. If he stops partying when he isn't working, gets over the alcohol addiction and stops living off coffee and actually pays any attention to me. Oh, and stops being so bloody sarcastic when he's running through the program I wrote. I'm the main programmer, see?"

"You can't be more than twenty-five!"

"I left school aged sixteen, getting straight into a college level course. My parents weren't… well, they weren't exactly happy. They wanted me to have a normal childhood but I wanted to forge ahead. I could get computers to do what I wanted, so why hang back? I finished my degree before I was twenty and Stark picked me up after finding my paper on a program that worked backwards."

"What? How did **that** work?"

"Most programs, you give the start and by a series of logical steps, you get to a conclusion. But what if you gave the **conclusion **you wanted, and **it** created the logical steps to get there? I managed to have a reason for invading **Switzerland**!"

"Honestly?"

She suddenly went bright red.

"Oh… All this is top secret. Tony would **kill **me if he found out I blurted out my project to a guy I went for coffee with."

"Your secrets safe with me. You really like this guy, don't you?"

"Tony? Well, he's a friend. One of the few people who actually understands what the hell I'm going on about when I get excited. And normally doesn't mind when I wake up at half-two in the morning and ring him because I've just realised something huge. To be fair, he does the same to me."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-10005 –Movieverse<em>

She was slumped over in the bed, far too thin and pale to be alive, but she was and Beast swore that in a few days she'd wake up and when she did, all it would take was a month or so of good meals, bed rest, medication and checks to make sure the adamantium wasn't killing her and she's be up and about again. He wasn't certain what to make of that. Stryker **had** told him he was a failed experiment. So what was she? She had been covered in her own filth and chained, obviously not a weapon in use like the claw-lady from Alkali Lake. She hadn't got the blistered skin on the base of her neck that the others did. Or rather, the mark was so small, it looked like it hadn't been used properly. Maybe she was immune? He heard Storm walk in.

"You spend a lot of time in here Logan."

"Yeah… Well, the Professor took me in when I was alone. Now he's gone, I think we should continue to do the same."

"Now Rogue has gone, are you going to take her in as well?"

"No. Rogue…she was a kid. I don't think that word could ever apply to her."

"Why?"

"Because… Look at her. I've seen her eyes. She was old. Older than you or any of the others, despite being well…just a kid. She's old because of what she's seen."

Storm reached out and touched the pale, clammy skin. Instantly a hand caught her wrist, there was a sickening crack and Ororo stumbled backwards, holding her broken wrist as golden eyes widened in fear.

"_Où suis-je_? _Où suis-je_?"

The woman twisted, trying to get out of the wires and obviously terrified. Suddenly slender, delicate metal claws shot out of her hands and Logan stumbled backwards. That **hadn't **been in the x-rays. She tugged herself up but he placed a hand on her chest, holding her down.

"I'm a friend. _Un copain_."

Her eyes fixed on him and he carefully released the pressure on her, hoping to show he wasn't going to hurt her. Her nostrils flared and he suddenly realised she was doing **exactly **what he would do. Get to know the scents, play passive, then attack. He span around trying to find something to show he wasn't going to hurt her but when he turned, she was curled up in a little ball.

"What? What's wrong?"

"_Les amis me blesser_."

Friends… He cursed, suddenly understanding that people said horrible things as they did…well, whatever they did to her. He stared around and caught up the mug Ororo had brought in.

"Here. Coffee."

She glanced at it suspiciously and he sighed before taking a huge gulp.

"See. Not poisoned."

She reached out warily and sniffed, carefully brought the cup to her lips and drank, before looking up at Ororo.

"I…I am sorry… I was…scared…alone…they hurt….hurts…hurts hurts…"

He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I understand."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-881 –Ξ and X<em>

He knew Fury would kill him if he knew. He knew everyone would be angry and hate him, but he couldn't turn her over. Anyway, he was Weapon X, the maverick, the lone warrior. He was sort of expected to be the one who disobeyed the rules. But hiding a political assassin in his home? Feeding her, clothing her, holding her when the nightmares came? That wasn't what they expected of him. She was considered a monster, a threat of the worst kind to the higher-ups. But all he saw was a terrified woman who hadn't got a name. He'd asked again and again, 'What is your name?' and all she answered, with growing confusion, was 'Xi. I am Xi.' He finally realised what she meant when the…Misunderstanding had taken place. She had thought… well, he wasn't certain what she'd thought, only that she'd seemed confused when he'd placed her in the bed and walked out. It had taken him a while, far too long, to realise that the only time she slept in a proper bed… well, there wouldn't be much **sleeping** going on. And as she'd stood up, the dressing gown slipped slightly and he saw it. The huge, deep scar on her back, the Greek letter Xi, naming her and marking her out. She'd seemed ashamed of the scar, but not of what she thought she'd have to do and it had taken a long time to explain that he didn't **want** that off her, not if she felt she had to give it to thank him and she didn't **have **to thank him at all. Now she was curled up in a chair, staring at her hands. He held out the cup and she flinched away.

"It's yours."

"Nothing is mine."

"Look, you're not there anymore. You're safe."

"I…I can't be safe. Not while I still hear the voices."

Great. She heard voices. This was going to make things a whole lot harder.

"What voices?"

"They tell me… how to fight, how to kill. I can… I see… I see the ways of making things into weapons… Like… I see that," she gestured to an ornament he had been given by someone he'd long forgotten, "And I see how to make it into a weapon, how I could kill someone with it."

He held out the cup again.

"Take it. Look, it's coffee. It's not poisoned or anything."

To prove it, he took a quick gulp. She reached out shyly and took the cup, before taking a long draught. He sat down opposite.

"I need you to trust me."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-8076 –Wolverine &amp; Shadow + Marie<em>

The Shadow span around, picking up various items from the floor.

"I apologise for the mess. Logan seems to think that the whole house is his, when the deeds are in my name."

Marie seemed slightly confused but stepped over to a table covered in photos. One black and white photo showed the two standing with the Invaders, the Shadow kneeling, holding her blade, Wolverine turned away from the camera.

"Oh that photo? We met the Invaders in France at one point and they asked for a photograph. We were getting quite famous at that point. More a myth than anything and they wanted proof we existed. Three weeks after that photo was taken, Bucky and the Captain fell, bringing down a missile aimed at New York. I considered him a friend, a shield brother as my old Asgardian friend would call it. The Invaders broke up at the end of the war but me and Logan… well, we sort of hung around. We're all the other has. Immortality is a lonely business."

"Immortality?"

"Or as close to it as possible. He heals and hasn't really aged since the Great War. I'm a lot older. I believe I stopped aging thirty years into David's reign. Logan, have you got that blasted coffee ready yet?"

"Give me a moment Etana! I'm not your blasted time-travelling coffee maker that makes your coffee five minutes before you stick the damn beans in!"

"Well, you **broke **it by forgetting to put the beans in after you **had** your coffee! I told you, you have to remember to put them in, otherwise it goes haywire!"

"If you didn't have stupid temporal tech in the kitchen, it wouldn't have happened!"

Marie just gaped. **This **was how Wolverine and Shadow, famed and revered throughout the world lived? Bickering, having shouting matches through the wall? Shadow cursed and stormed off into the kitchen.

"Right! Out Logan! I will not have you in this kitchen any longer! No matter how well you cook, you are hereby **banned**."

He marched out, muttering about stupid women who couldn't make up their minds. He saw her and grinned bashfully.

"Yeah, we're always like this. Love her really, mainly cos she's the only one who puts up with me. But she **nags**. And I'm not going to get started on her training schedule."

He jumped over the back of the sofa to land on it.

"LOGAN! ARE YOU JUMPING ON THE SOFA AGAIN?"

"NO!"

"BECAUSE IF YOU ARE, I SHALL DO SOMETHING VERY PAINFUL AND HUMILIATING TO YOU, UNDERSTAND YOUNG MAN!"

"YES, **MOTHER**!"

"GOOD! AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT! I'M STILL WAITING FOR YOU TO FIX THE TV AFTER YOU STABBED IT!"

He slumped down further in the seat.

"I swear she does this for laughs…"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-2182 –Professor W's X-Men<em>

He stared at her, knowing he was being slightly rude but she was staring back at him.

"Who are you?"

Her voice was low, deeper than her slight frame suggested. The terrible, jagged scars on her arms were covered and he wasn't entirely sure **what** had caused them. Had she done it herself? Had someone torn her arms open? They weren't usual cutter scars. They were deeper, more in keeping with a large knife than a smaller blade.

"I'm Logan."

"No. Who. Are. You."

"I… What?"

"What was your number?"

"My…number?"

"X-ii. I am X-ii, or Xii."

And he realised what she was saying.

"X. I was X. But now I'm Logan."

She was staring at him in shock.

"X… I… I never thought… I am X-ii. X Version 2."

He stiffened.

"You aren't another version of me. You are yourself. You are… What's your name?"

She shrugged.

"Xii."

"I can't call you that. It doesn't feel like a proper name."

"It's all I have."

Kurt burst into existence with a tray of coffees.

"Hello _mein freunds_! I hope you won't object to these drinks Kitty made for you!"

"Course not Elf. Leave them on the table here. I just need to find a name for Xii here."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6751 –Age of X<em>

She was slight, almost delicate in appearance. Logan, Etana and Magneto all sat opposite her. Ever the gracious master, Magneto reached out and pulled in four metal beakers of coffee, a precious import from outside Fortress X.

"Please. Drink."

She reached out, her emotionless face scaring Logan more than he cared to admit. Three days. Three days since he had- well, he hadn't exactly **saved her**. More saved the crowd of people around her. But in those three days he had never once seen the slightest flicker of emotion cross her face. She was like a machine, emotionless, unfeeling, a creature created with one purpose in mind and that was to kill. And she was good at it. He had watched when they were attacked. They hadn't expected her to fight but she had leapt over the barriers and fought like a woman possessed, killing more of the attackers than anyone else. Logan had been close to her when a man, cowering, had stared at her in incredulity, gasping out a final question. "What the Hell are you?" And her vicious, sharp answer, emphasised with a decapitating blow. "I am what humanity made me."

And she was. She was a ruthless, emotionless, merciless killing machine, effective and now with a huge price on her head, only if brought in alive. She was wanted, **needed** by the men who had created her. And she had promised that they would die.

Right now though, she was sipping the hot coffee.

"Xii, I would be more than willing to allow you to stay here. And if you wish, we can remove the computers in your head."

"Why would I want that?"

Magneto flustered for a second, then Xii carried on.

"I am effective, why should I change? I can kill, fight and act as a spy with ease."

Etana leant forward.

"There is more to living than fighting. I know that. Or I did before all this went to hell."

Xii's unblinking golden eyes fixed on Etana and Logan shivered as she spoke, the words she said deserving anger in their tone, not empty, expressionless syllables.

"I am a fighter. That is what I was created for. I can fight. I can spy. I can kill. That is what I am."

"But is it what you should **be**?"

She blinked, obviously not understanding. And Logan leant forward.

"Do you want to be what they made you?"

She stiffened. And a robotic, empty voice echoed out.

"Question not understood."

* * *

><p><em><strong>A.N. <strong>Well...__ That was fun to write.__ Any ideas would be gratefully received, by review or PM. The next chapter is titled "Meal"_


	3. Meal

_Disclaimer: This is a __**fan**__fiction site. Do you really think I own this?_

* * *

><p>Meal<p>

* * *

><p><em>Earth-618 –Memories<em>

The first impression was one of noise. Cheerful chatter, happy friends. And then her, sitting quietly at one end of the table, picking at the plate of pasta. Logan frowned, then picked up his plate and moved down to sit next to her.

"Hey."

She looked up then looked down again.

"Are you alright?"

She shrugged.

"Fine."

"Really?"

She nodded.

"Just you don't seem fine. You won't really talk to anyone. Are you afraid of us?"

"No!"

"Here."

He handed her the ketchup, hoping she would relax enough so he could talk to her properly. She intrigued him, this tiny, delicate woman who looked like she could be broken by being dropped.

"Thank you."

Her hair was shading her eyes and he could tell she was shy and trying to hide it.

"We're not going to hurt you. I promise."

She murmured something that sounded like 'She promised too' but he wasn't going to intrude on her personal reminiscences.

"Look… It hurts. I know it hurts. But we can help you get through that hurt. You just have to let us."

She nodded softly.

"I understand."

"Do you? Really?"

* * *

><p><em>Earth 1610 –Ultimate<em>

The tent was noisy, messy, full of smells and slops. And she was sitting on the bench, staring at her plate in mild disgust. He grinned as he walked over.

"Long call from gourmet French cuisine, eh 'Turner'?"

She nodded, staring glumly at the food.

"_C'est très mal_."

"Don't let the cook hear you say that. He'll cut your ration."

"It's still disgusting."

He nodded.

"Yeah, but it's food. So how did you end up here?"

"I managed to get one of the last evacuation ships. I left my best friend behind. I should have given her my place, my papers…"

"Is this the Jew you knew?"

"Yes. She's… She's probably dead by now. Or wishes she were at any rate. I should have shot her when she asked me to. Her whole family were killed and I hid her and then I left her without a second thought…"

"I heard it was everyone for himself."

She nodded, eyes damp.

"Yes. Everyone thought only of themselves and their families. I… I… My sister… she gave her ticket to a woman with a baby. I… I didn't know until she stopped at the boarding area and told me she wasn't able to come with me. I should have stayed. Eloise was so much braver than I will ever be."

"Was?"

"She was caught. Standing in the docks. They probably thought she was a spy."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-523 –Witchkin<em>

They were busy, everyone eating the same food in the same hall at the same worn wooden tables. The lady eating with slaves who ate with freemen, all eating the same food off the same plates made by the same hands.

Tora stared at the food in distaste. She was used to hunting her own food then cooking it over an open fire, all with her own hands and in a way she knew. She knew the plants and animals well enough to be able to guess from a smell what she was eating. But she couldn't guess some of this food. The Pack Traitor steered her away from the main tables.

"I don't trust you just yet. Sit here. I'll get you food."

She made as if to leap away and he sighed.

"I'm sorry I have to do this."

He unbuckled the chain then linked it to the heavy wood of the table leg.

"Stay there. I'll bring you food."

She snarled and he sighed again.

"Try not to kill anyone."

She stared around, taking in the many Witchkin, close to fifty, all milling around, laughing, joking. How could they debase themselves like this, hiding from the humans who kept them trodden down, pretending to be slaves to pander to the weaker species' wishes?

He came back and placed the wooden plate in front of her.

"Eat quickly. I don't think you'll like the company."

She snarled at him, hating the sarcastic bite in his tone, hating his position of power over her and finally and utterly hating him for what he was. She looked down at the sharp knife resting on the plate then back up at him as he sat opposite her. His hand was resting against a cup and she reached out as if to start eating.

He didn't scream when she stabbed the knife into his hand but a woman at the next table did.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-671 –Powerless<em>

"I'm sorry, James, Marie. I've just had a call. My daughter's just gone into labour and I promised I'd be there for her."

"No bother, Tana. That okay with you, Marie?"

She nodded.

"Of course, Mrs Rogers."

"Sweetheart, I've **told** you it's Etana. Be a dear, James, and feed the cat for me. I don't think I'll be back in time."

"Course, Tana."

"I'm going to be a gran! I'm **far** too young for that."

She leant over and brushed her lips across his cheek before picking up her bag and hurrying out of the restaurant. James smiled apologetically.

"Sorry about Etana. You'd never know she was one of the most prominent scholars on traditional Japanese swordmaking to look at her, would you?"

Marie smiled softly.

"No. You wouldn't."

"I recommend the Cantonese duck."

She stared at the menu.

"You come here often?"

"Put it this way, Etana can't cook to save her life and she needs to have **someone** with her to make it look like she has a busy social calendar instead of being the sort of person who forges their own dinner. She makes me go to a different restaurant with her at least once a week."

Marie giggled but shut up when the tall woman shot back in and grabbed her coat.

"Sorry about this. I'm really a bit of a scatterbrain. James will testify that."

He shrugged, smiling broadly at her.

"In everything except your job and your family."

She gave him a brief smile and ran out, leaving a glove behind. James rolled his eyes before picking it up.

"This happens **every** time. I always leave after her because she always forgets something."

Marie still wasn't certain exactly **how** this had happened. She'd went back to the martial arts school, been introduced to the owner, Etana Rogers, who on hearing she went for coffees with James after a session, **insisted** on taking her out to dinner. She was going to introduce her husband, who was something big in the military, only there was some sort of crisis involving 'those annoying remote drones, I told him they were a terrible idea and he's come to agree with me' and then she had got a call from her son-in-law Michael to say that Sophie was at the hospital and wanted to her to be there. James smiled apologetically again.

"If you want to go back, I understand. I'm sorry Tana insisted on taking you out in public. You'd probably just have preferred to stay at home."

She shook her head. Home was too painful, with its covered-up mirrors and empty rooms. And whilst being in public drew pitying glances and the chance of seeing her reflection, she was unlikely to have one of her panic attacks, when every noise was **him **trying to get in, to hurt her again.

"I need to get out. I need to get used to being… being me."

She stiffened as she heard the conversation from the table next to them.

"Isn't that that woman… what's her name… from the Creed case? You know, the one who started crying?"

"Isn't that man one of the witnesses?"

"I do believe he is. What **is** he doing with **her** of all people? I mean, she can't even **pretend**!"

James saw the look on his face and got up, walking over to the table.

"Excuse me. I couldn't help but hear the topic of your conversation. Since you seem to be so **knowledgeable**, would you care to give me your enlightened views on the subject?"

Silence. James turned back to Marie.

"Sorry we didn't get to eat. I know a good takeaway down the road."

She nodded silently, grateful that he would do something like that for her. But then James had been like that from the very beginning.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-987 –X-Change<em>

Logan's eyes darkened as she took in the scene. Summer was sitting next to Lottie, probably having an intensely serious conversation. Kenny was sitting next to Kris, making eyes at Petra. Jorah was somewhere, upstairs, talking to his many plants. And the newcomer, Torao, was sitting silently on his own, staring at his food, not even reaching out for the fork. She pulled out the chair next to him and watched as he started.

"Oh… Logan…"

She gave him a toothy grin.

"I don't bite kid."

"Please don't call me kid."

"Sure thing… darlin'"

She laughed at the blush spreading up his face. There was something so refreshing about teasing him, maybe because he didn't get most of the innuendos and double entendres she threw at him, maybe because it was so easy to get a bright red flush to creep over cheeks pale from no exposure to sunlight.

"Please, Logan…"

"Yeah, Torao. I'm sorry. Come on. We better get you to eat. Can't have you dying of starvation after we rescue you, can we?"

He shook his head and started shovelling the food into his mouth. Logan laughed.

"And now you're going to make yourself sick. Eat **slowly**. We aren't going to steal it."

He slowed but he was still edgy. Logan rolled her eyes.

"I mean **really**. You **honestly** think we're going to steal your food when there's a great big pot of the stuff over on the unit?"

He blushed again, blood rising up to his cheeks. He murmured something under his breath that sounded slightly embarrassed about his lack of social understanding. He placed his cutlery down, leaving a little bit on the edge of the plate. Logan pointed to it.

"Full?"

"No. Isn't it a mark of hunger to eat everything on the plate? Mustn't one leave some to show they are full?"

Logan burst out laughing again.

"Wrong culture darling'!"

Torao looked like his face was on fire and he wanted to sink through the floor.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-9821 –Starcrossed<em>

He thought it was amusing. That Magneto, upon capturing the X-Men, would give them a meal with the Brotherhood. She was sitting next to him, staring at her plate, deliberately not talking to him, to hide the fact they had met a few times already and ended up not fighting. Magneto smiled at her.

"My dear, do entertain our honoured guest Wolverine."

She looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"What do you **suggest** I do to entertain him Erik? Dance on the table? Sing a song, which as you said, is more a form of torture than entertainment? Play a musical instrument?"

"I suppose talking to him would be out of the question?"

She sighed and made a big show of not wanting to, then glanced at him.

"Er… Can we just agree to not talk, all meal?"

"Why should I do that?"

"It would mean I don't have to pretend to be interested in your do-gooding deeds."

He laughed and everyone turned to look.

"Regular comedian you have here, Buckethead!"

"I did actually mean what I said, you idiot."

He turned and smiled at her, enjoying getting a reaction out of her.

"Can you pass me the mustard?"

The force with which she slammed it down in front of him shook the whole table. Magento rose angrily.

"TORA! Your behaviour reflects badly on myself! Leave us!"

She glared at him and Logan shook his head.

"Sorry. My fault."

She stared at him, knowing that her reaction **wasn't** his fault in any way or form, so why lie? He winked at her, passing the message along.

_We're in this together._

* * *

><p><em>Earth-321 –Weapon Plus<em>

She crouched low in the grass and watched the deer. Then there was a roar and _pack-friend-companion _Wolverine burst out from the treeline, sending the deer into panic. They charged away from him and towards her. She was tempted by the stag but decided instead for the old doe, well past breeding age, to ensure that the herd would survive. She leapt, her claws digging deep into the neck of the animal and jerked the head back, snapping the neck, a quick and painless death. She knew some of the others in the facility would like to play with their food before killing it but that idea was repellent to her. Food should be brought down quickly, efficiently and painlessly.

She looked up as Wolverine loped up, and tilted her head to one side. He made a satisfied noise, as if he was pleased by how quickly she had brought down their meal. She shimmied back, allowing him access to one side of the animal, yet deliberately taking the first bite, making it obvious that this was **her **kill and she was just sharing it with him. He nodded and let her eat first, then eating what was left.

She tilted her head, trying to explain that he could eat at the same time but she couldn't find a way of expressing it without speaking and she had sworn never to speak, to never allow herself to be one of the filthy, **stinking** humans, who were so callous and cruel. So she simply tore out a chunk of meat and gave it to him. He smiled at her and she made the low purring noise. And then they heard the voices.

"Yeah, we let them out to hunt together. You won't believe how good they are together. I can't believe the bosses never put them together before."

"Yeah well, the only contact Wolverine gets with the females is when they want to breed. She's the sort of weapon they want to get as much work out of possible before breeding."

"Can you **imagine** what the boss would give to get his hands on a kid from the pair of them?"

"Yeah, it's only a matter of time. They're **animals**, for all they seem to be human. Won't take long before they become a breeding pair."

She looked up, eyes wide, meeting his eyes which mirrored her own shock and embarrassment.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-735 –Saviour<em>

She still couldn't quite believe he would do this for her. He grinned as she stepped out into the cold street.

"Your cat okay?"

She smiled.

"Yes. Mike had to go and get a jag though, so I ended up with lots of scratches."

"No problem with healing?"

"None at all."

She got into the car, trying very, **very** hard not to start squealing happily at the thought of being taken to a meal with Professor Xavier. She repeated the personal mantra over and over again in her head. _You are a grown woman. You will not act like a teenager confronted with their idol. You are a grown woman. You will not act like a teenager confronted with their idol._

She knew that it wouldn't work. She would go into journalist mode, trying to get every scrap of information out of him. She was hopeless. JJ liked her, if only because she would keep following a story until it collapsed exhausted. He oft asked her whether her mutation gave her bloodhound genes. She had told him when she had got the job. She had liked him, despite his behaviour, and hadn't wanted to put him in a difficult position. He had laughed when she had shyly said she was a mutant and told her there was nothing wrong with that.

But it was Professor Xavier! She bit her lip nervously and glanced at the man driving.

"So, Kid. Looking forward to meeting Chuck?"

She nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. He looked at her and grinned.

"You're really getting hung up about this, aren't you?"

She nodded again.

"Seriously, Kid, Chuck doesn't bite."

"WILL YOU STOP CALLING ME KID!"

"Sorry. He might ask you if you'd like a position on the X-Men though."

She shook her head.

"Me? Join the X-Men? Not a chance. I'm far too stubborn and maverick. I think I'd be more suited for a solo hero career, if it wasn't for the fact I already have a full-time job writing for a boss who rants a lot, and needs a superhero correspondent to yell at and send on dangerous fact-finding missions. Between Ben and I, people say the Bugle got one of the best teams for working with the Avengers and so on."

"Maybe because you're a mutant?"

"Shhhh… That's a big secret. Only JJ, Robbie and Ben know, as do my parents, my sister, you and therefore all the X-Men… Oh… That's not a secret anymore, is it?"

"No."

She grinned at him.

"So where **exactly** are we eating?"

"A restu- Damn. Can you get my phone?"

She stared at him and he jerked his head towards the cell on the dashboard. She stared. The caller-id was 'Chuck' and a picture of a glossy white pebble, smoothed by a river. She raised an eyebrow and he snarled slightly.

"Hello?"

"Ah… Logan? Have you gotten 'distracted' again?"

"He's here. Driving."

"Ah good. I am sorry, Ms Circen, I assume you are Ms Circen since Logan is driving and I hope he wouldn't have become distracted by anyone when he was **supposed** to be picking you up for me, but I'm afraid I'll have to cancel. Lilandra, a close…friend of mine has unexpectedly turned up and wants to talk to me."

"Oh… Of course, I understand."

"Thank you, Ms Circen. Of course, the table is still booked if you have anyone you wish to take. The bill will go to me."

"Oh…_non, monsieur_. I would **never** seek to intrude like that!"

"I'm sorry. Tell Logan, will you?"

"Of course, Professor Xavier."

"I'll try and ring you later to arrange another meeting."

She dialled off and related the conversation to Logan, who shrugged.

"You want to go back, or I could pick up someone and you could go out?"

"I don't **know** anyone to 'go out' with."

"Seems a shame to leave a place in that restaurant empty… I heard they were booked up for weeks."

"Is that a hint?"

"Maybe."

"If you ask properly, then I might say yes."

"Fine. _Mademoiselle_ Circen, will you come for dinner with me?"

"Of course."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-3799 –Teaching the Gifted<em>

The canteen was noisy, filled with the inane chatter of children. Etana waved Marc over from a corner.

"Hello. Right, let's start with the introductions. This is Dr Henry McCoy, the only other PhD in this **benighted** establishment and teacher of the Sciences."

Marc blinked.

"Dr McCoy? **The** Dr McCoy?"

"Ah, I assume you have read some of my papers from before I came to this most enlightened place of learning, no matter what our dear Dr Toledano says."

"Er…Kurt Wagner, our Drama teacher and ex-circus star." Etana leant forward and whispered conspiratorially in Marc's ear. "Ended up working with Hawkeye, that sharp-shooter who's on TV all the time now."

Marc smiled and held out a hand for the black haired man who had a smudge of blue stage make-up around one eye and a fake pointed ear hanging half-off.

"Marc Circen."

"Ah… _gut_. Another European."

"Peter Rasputin, Art. Genius with paints."

The man smiled broadly before greeting Marc in a thick Russian accent.

"And dear Ms Pryde, our resident computer genius."

A cheerful looking brunette waved from beside the art teacher.

"Hey Marc!"

"_Salut_."

"Scott Summers, the depute headmaster and Geometry teacher is on duty today. Did he interview you?"

"_Non_. It was Professor Xavier and two women."

"Ah. Jean and Emma. The Headmistress and depute. Those two are rather… at odds. Jean was one of the original students from years ago and was given the headmistress post on that basis, while Emma used to head the Massachusetts Academy and feels like she deserves the Headmistress post. The worst bit is that they're the only English teachers we have. Jean teaches Lit. and Emma teaches Language and they **hate** each other. Oh, Jane! Come over! Stop being so mopey."

The woman walked over and sighed at Marc.

"I have to **live** with this. Do you see why I start going insane?"

"Yes."

"Who else…? Ah, Mr Remy LeBeau, our **dear** Sex Ed. teacher. Bobby Drake, Mathematics."

The two men waved cheerfully and then returned to their conversation about baseball.

"Mr Beaubier is…somewhere… He teaches Business and keeps to himself. Poor man. He's had problems with students since they saw him leaving with his boyfriend."

"Oh."

"Anna! Anna! Anna is our American History teacher. Anna Raven, meet Marc Circen"

The woman smiled broadly.

"Yeah. We have to put up with her every single day. This is why the entire staff and student body is insane."

Etana laughed and sat down.

"Just because I'm the only one who considers it polite to introduce the new teacher…"

Jane closed her eyes.

"Yes Tana, but you give him information overload. Why can't I have a **normal** boss?"

Anna, the American History teacher leant over.

"We reckon poor Jane's nerves are shot. She was dishonourably discharged from the Canadian special forces for refusing to blow up the building a group of terrorists were using because there was a child held hostage in the building. She ended up knocking her commanding officer out and going in herself. Saved the child, captured all the terrorists and was discharged for an act of mutiny. She was diagnosed with PTSD, else she'd have been imprisoned. And now she has to put up with Toledano all the time. I mean, Etana is a brilliant teacher and fine in small doses but she's a bit…full-on? Does that make sense?"

Marc smiled sheepishly.

"Yes. I like her though. She's passionate about what she does."

Jane leant over and sighed.

"Anna, are you telling Marc tales about me?"

"Of course sugah. I single-handedly run the gossip-mill here. Have to keep my reputation up."

"I should never have told you about the discharge…"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-21267 –Agents of SHIELD<em>

The mess was busy but Logan navigated the crowd easily, knowing that Tora was hurrying along behind him. He waved lazily to Dugan, who grinned and waved back, mouthing 'Nice partner' to him. He nodded back and then groaned. Hawkeye and the Widow were walking over. He liked Natasha. She was a good agent, sensible, and didn't take nonsense from anyone. He'd thought about introducing Tora to Tasha, knowing Natasha would quite happily take the girl under her wing if Logan asked, but unfortunately Tasha had a habit of going around with her jokester partner Hawkeye. He knew SHIELD only accepted the best, which was the reason he was there. He knew Hawkeye was an expert sniper, knew he worked well with Tasha and that the Widow had a high regard of him, but he found the man intolerable.

While Logan had always had a healthy disregard for rules and put off filing paperwork for as long as he could, Barton's list of infringements was bigger than Logan's, Dugan's and Jones' put together, an impressive feat seeing as the three of them had been with SHIELD since the beginning and all had basically read the rulebook once and forgotten it since then. Hawkeye grinned roguishly.

"Hey Wolvie. New partner? Haven't you told her what happened to the last one?"

Natasha jabbed him and rolled her eyes.

"Ignore my idiot excuse for a partner. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. I reckon you're a keeper, because he hasn't made you run off screaming yet."

Tora smiled shyly.

"He's been very kind."

"Come and eat with us."

Tora seemed slightly in awe of Tasha and Logan made a note to get the Widow to give her a few training sessions. After Fury, his original partner, had been promoted, Logan had been unable to keep a partner for more than a year. He had wanted Tasha when she'd arrived but his past with her; when she managed, rather humiliatingly, to seduce him when she was still working for the Soviets, stealing some of the most sensitive documents in SHIELD's history; had resulted in Fury refusing point blank.

He knew he'd have to suffer Hawkeye's company if he pushed Tasha and Tora together, but somehow he felt it was the least he could do for this rather shy, slightly insecure young woman. If anyone could teach her how to kick butt, it was Tasha.

He had to put up with Hawkeye flirting shamelessly with both women, but Tasha just ignored him and Tora was so endearingly bewildered, taking it all literally, missing the double meanings, that he gave up and Logan had to laugh.

"Sure thing, Short-stuff. Laugh all you like."

He was about to snarl at the annoying archer when a plate rammed straight into Barton's face. Tora sat back down, a look of satisfaction dancing in her eyes. Natasha started sniggering and then the two women were clinging to each other as they laughed.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6176 –Opposites<em>

He raised the glass to her, smiling softly. This was so easy. You would have thought a woman of her reputation would be more wary, yet she had accepted his story with ease. Of course, he had only lied at the most necessary points. The more truth his story contained, the less likely he would be to slip up. Not that he **would** slip up. He was too good for that.

It was hard to believe that this frankly quite beautiful woman was one of the deadliest assassins and spies in the world, the Black Widow's protégée and the one responsible for his organisation's last leader's demise. He hadn't **liked** his boss, but the rules were simple. They sting us, we sting back. Only this woman had broken through all their highly advanced security systems, and only killed one person –her target. That anyone could do that, could destroy the boss without spilling a drop more blood than needed to be done, was impressive. And, and this was the bit Logan had loved the most, she'd even stopped to clean up the blood, leaving a little cleaning bill tucked in the boss's cold hands.

It was little things like that which made her so different from the others. Someone vibrant, with a sense of humour and joy, so neat and capable of pulling of hits with **style**. Flowers, normally unsigned, were a traditional part of her style. Flowers and cleaning. He smiled broadly at her as his mind rushed through every little thing he knew about her.

Taken in by the Widow when orphaned aged five, raised by Romanova's old friend, who the girl affectionately called Grandmother; Mariya Romanova, codenamed the Tigress, was one of the Widow's most ruthless and efficient killers. No one knew what her original name had been, except the Widow and the woman herself.

He had met the Widow once, and been lucky to survive. And this woman had a certain…air about her, the imperious grace of Romanova, with the hint of an innocence that she did not deserve. Etana had simply pursed her lips tight when she'd heard about his newest target.

But then Etana didn't approve of **anything** he did anymore. She told him that selling your services to the highest bidder, killing the good people when it should be your employer you stab through the heart, was the worst thing he could do with his talents. But he had seen her work. He knew the thanklessness of humanity, knew that people would never look past Etana's freakish exterior to see the woman who had saved countless lives. He knew the bounties out on her head, knew that all it would take would be a single claw extended when Etana was distracted, or off her guard and he would be rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he would never do that, **could** never do that. She was the one who cared most about him, stood beside him despite some of his dodgier decisions and never judged him beyond that accursed lip-pursing. He loved her as the mother he couldn't remember and stayed with her because… well, she was Etana.

Tora, easier to think of her like that else he'd slip up, was smiling softly.

"So Logan, why **did** you ask me to dinner?"

"I wanted to get to know you better." With every fibre of his being. It wasn't every day you met an artist in their profession.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-19 –Being Normal<em>

Kurt gave his charmingly flirtatious smile when Logan persuaded her to sit with them.

"I am Kurt Wagner."

"_Oui_. Logan spoke of you. Is that right?"

"Logan, what **lies** did you tell her?"

"Only that you already **have** a girlfriend. Or **did** until Professor Lehnsherr found out. Marie, this is the **idiot** who dared date a teacher's daughter."

"I don't see **Alex** being made to run round the grounds thirteen times…"

Remy snorted.

"**Dat's** because Alex never snogged Lorna at a school dance. In front of her dad. You should have seen the elf run!"

Kurt went violet.

"Vanda kissed **me**!"

"Oh, he's mad, he's stopped pronouncing w."

Marie was giggling quietly behind her hand then looked at them all.

"Logan. Remy. Kurt. Ororo. _Oui_?"

"Absolutely right."

She smiled and sat down, placing her tray next to Ororo. Logan instantly sat on the other side of her, making a statement to the others that right now, he was the one interested in her. He saw Kurt roll his eyes in exasperation and Remy wink. Ororo was talking quietly to Marie and he pricked up his ears when he heard his name. But no, Ro was just telling her about him being placed on the sports team.

Why did he have a feeling that this one was going to be difficult?

* * *

><p><em>Earth-40 –DragonBound.<em>

He hated state dinners. She was sitting there, her dragon coiled up, her resting on his foreleg as they ate. A representative of the elfs, one of the outliers by the unusual blue staining of his skin and swirling tattoos, was there, flicking across the roof with ease, showing off his agility and flexibility. If there was one thing Logan envied the Cats for, it was their easy grace and light-footedness. In the two months he'd been here, he'd never once seen a Cat stumble or trip. And then the DragonBound rose, pushing her food aside, and leapt upwards, joining the elf in his joyful acrobatics, leaping through the rafters, dancing around him and then leaping at him so the poor elf stumbled and fell, but she had caught him and was laughing joyfully. The elf joined in the laughter and then the two leapt down lightly and stared at each other. And she held out her arm in the traditional elf greeting and the man grasped her hand and smiled.

Logan snorted. That the DragonBound could be so impossibly unrestrained showed her rough and poor upbringing. The Tigers lived on the fringes, shunning society for the most part, preferring to live alone or in small groups, meeting for the annual CatMeet and sometimes meeting as they wandered, nomadic and wild. They were the last true nomads of the Cats and as such the DragonBound had no reservations about insulting or appearing coarse. And in a way he envied her.

The Phoenix Wolf would never dream of doing something as joyous or unrestrained as acrobatics with a visiting elf. But the DragonBound saw no reason not to do something she enjoyed, no reason to sit as the last had done. You could see her vibrant soul, tempered by her dragon's calmer personality.

She crouched down in front of him.

"What is the matter Wolf-Prince? Are you too proud for our fun?"

And she grabbed his hands, pulling him up to join the elf in their joyous dance.

"Dance with us Wolf-Boy! For the night is short and soon we must hunt!"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-1813 –First Impressions<em>

He had finally admitted it to Kurt. She intrigued him. So shy to him and strangers, yet according to Kurt, a lively wit and fiercely intelligent. So why did she hide? Why did she act so shy? Kurt had shrugged it off and gone to talk to Miss Pryde.

He had seen the relief in the Prydes eyes. He knew what people thought of the Jews here. The Circens were one of the few families who seemed to treat the Prydes as equal. He smiled as Miss Circen sat down beside him, her eyes downcast, face turned away, a strand of red hair falling over her face.

"Miss Circen?"

She started, almost in amazement. Why was she so **shy** around him? He knew what some would say, but he didn't think Miss Circen thought of him that way. She was honest, that much he could see. Very honest and very loyal to her friends.

"Have you enjoyed tonight?"

She seemed surprised he was engaging her in conversation but nodded.

"Very much so Mr Howlett."

He smiled at her, hoping she would talk but she didn't seem very talkative tonight, looking tired and pale.

"Are you well? You look ill."

She shook her head, raising a hand in mild protest.

"I am healthy. I just feel slightly tired."

He blinked, so she wouldn't feel that he was staring. She was staring at the empty place, her goldish eyes not quite daring to meet his. And then Kurt spoke to her and she jerked upright, replying swiftly and cleverly before remembering who was sitting beside her and slipping back into her shy fugue. What **was** it about him that made her so quiet and introspective? And then the food arrived and her head bowed low, revealing a flash of her neck and he pointedly looked away because he'd been staring and he couldn't afford to stare, couldn't make his interest obvious.

Because she would notice. He knew she would notice and she **couldn't**.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-891 –Divided<em>

She looked embarrassed, as if she wished she wasn't using him like this.

"I'm sorry."

"I thought Stark Industries dinners were supposed to be great?"

"Yes, but Tony basically told me if I turned up without the plus one **again**, he'd make me go with him next time and I really didn't go through all those hellish courses to end up as Tony Stark's arm candy. I have a job. And a life. And Tony has a habit of messing those things up."

He snorted and then grinned.

"No bother. Course, my friend's the one who specialises in damsel saving. I just sort of, you know, get in the way?"

She laughed and they walked into the busy room.

"Oh boy. Right, Tony is going to home right in on you. Just…try not to punch him, no matter how tempting it is."

He snorted with laughter and she flashed him a smile back before swearing and tugging him away.

"What?"

"I **hate** Tiberius Stone. He's always trying to steal me away from Stark Industries. But I want a **challenge** and Tony can provide that, all the time. He knows the challenges I want, gives them to me on a silver platter. Stone can't give me the challenge I want. **Need** to be perfectly honest."

"Ah! Marie! You hate me that much?"

She closed her eyes, counted to five then swung around, a broad smile on her face.

"Hi Tony. Tony, this is Logan. Logan, Anthony Stark."

A moment's silence then Stark stuck a hand out, swaying slightly.

"Pleased to meet you. Be nice to Marie, she's the best damn programmer we have."

"Tony… They want you up there for the speech."

"What? Oh. That."

He staggered off, weaving through the crowd drunkenly.

"It's true then?"

"What?"

"He's a drunk?"

"Not all the time. He's sober when he works. It's just times like this, he gets drunk, can't hold himself together, is **horrible** the next day."

"You mean he was sober when he came up with that exploding Greek fire thing?"

"Dead sober. That's when he actually scares me. He wasn't drunk, he wasn't on a caffeine high, he was just… **Tony**. Damn. Need to sit down. Er… Ah. Here."

She pulled him to a small table and half-closed her eyes as Stark gave his talk, his speech not slurring at all, but you could tell from his eyes and his scent he was completely wasted, drunk on adrenaline and alcohol. Then her eyes snapped open as he mentioned her name.

"Well, Marie, who so isn't just a pretty face, even though she is, pretty I mean, she's a genius and programmed the AI I use all the time and oh boy, I'm not making much sense, am I?"

The chorused 'No's weren't Logan's priority though. Marie looked pale, then she got up and hurried off. He ran after her and soon found her in the foyer, snatching up her coat.

"What's wrong?"

"That project was top secret. He has the only adult version. I have a child program back home and I need to get it somewhere secure."

"Wait. Adult? Child?"

"The program is designed to learn like a person. I hook it up to the Internet and it learns facts. I show it how to make coffee, it learns how to do it. Right now, Jarvis 2.0. is playing The Sims at my house, learning how human interactions work vaguely."

"What's so special about it then?"

"Most AIs are just huge memories, fast processors and a superb ALU. But the JARVIS program? It's… It's like a human. It starts out with the baby steps and gradually grows until it's smarter than a person. It actually **feels** emotions."

"What? Like a **person**?"

She nodded.

"Jarvis 1.0 can't emote. That's why Tony has it. But 2.0? He's basically human. I can't afford to have anyone steal him. He's just like a little kid. He passed the Turing Test after only thirty minutes surfing the net."

"Huh? What's the Turing Test?"

"It basically means that an impartial judge couldn't tell whether JJ or I was the human. He actually thought **I** was the computer."

"JJ?"

She blushed bright red as she pulled them out into the cold night air.

"My name for him."

Her hand threw up as she hurried towards a black limo.

"Happy, I need to get to my place. Tony just revealed the JARVIS Project to everyone."

"Course Doc."

"Doc?"

"Oh. Didn't I tell you? Doctorate in Programming."

"I take it we're not staying to eat?"

She stared at him then started laughing hysterically.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-10005 –Movieverse<em>

He wouldn't leave her side. She wasn't ready to eat yet. Beast kept her hooked up to the IV feeds but she seemed edgy, like she wanted out. Logan knew why. He hated needles being jabbed into him, thought it was to do with the metal in his bones. But she sat quite still when the needles were injected and only then started shivering. She was terrified of them, he could smell her fear. But now Beast had decided she could eat solids, and he'd brought down the first meal.

"Here."

She blinked at him, then turned her head away.

"Don't you want off the IVs?"

She blinked again.

"No one feeds me."

"We are. Please. Eat this."

She shook her head, trying to raise a hand up.

"Please."

"I don't eat."

"Why not?"

"I…I eat, they punish."

"Then what did you eat?"

She raised her arm to her mouth and he pulled it away violently.

"NO!"

She cowered and he tried to calm down.

"You don't have to do that anymore. Here. It's yours."

He held the plate of food out, hoping she'd take it. Instead she ducked further away. Inspiration struck.

"Eat it. That's an order."

The speed with which the plate was taken out of his hands astonished him. She was stuffing the food into her mouth, barely stopping to chew and he had to intervene again.

"Eat it slowly. Chew, swallow, relax."

She slowed down and he felt guilty for playing on her fear, the fact she had been tortured into obeying orders like this and he was using it, almost condoning it. She looked up, golden eyes afraid and he wondered if they had ever been the silvery metal colour that those Stryker had controlled. He hoped they never had, had never been that empty colour when they glowed with life right now.

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to reach out and touch the little blister on the back of her neck, so tiny compared to the other scars. He had seen Summers' burn at one point and it was much bigger than this and he had only been used once. He was startled out of his reverie with the plate being pushed back towards him shyly.

"Look, Beast, the big blue guy, he says you'll be allowed to walk about soon. You okay with that?"

She didn't answer and he felt so sorry for this damaged woman who was so afraid of him.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-881 –Ξ and X<em>

He was ignoring Fury's calls. Lied on the reports, told SHIELD the assassin had escaped, given up his reputation as a tracker who never let his prey get away for this woman. She was still asleep in his bed, curled up cat-like, screaming out every now and then and he didn't know what to do. He couldn't hide an international fugitive in his house forever. Her face was plastered all over the news, the mutant assassin who was on the run. He couldn't let her go out but she seemed content to stay in the few rooms he had showed her. Now he brought up the small plate of food, knowing she'd be awake but too nervous to come down. He knocked and entered, knowing she would be too embarrassed to tell him to enter.

He automatically closed his eyes. She was standing at the mirror, his bathrobe pulled down, craning to see the three parallel scars on her back.

"Can you please put that back on?"

He heard her gasp, a sudden intake of breath and then clattering feet.

"Can I open my eyes now?"

No answer, so he opened them. She was cowering in the corner, arms pulled over her face.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

She shuddered and he put the plate down, crouching beside her.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"When… When they don't hurt me, they hurt me more."

Huh? Oh… The Misunderstanding. So the guards either raped her or did something even worse. If you **could** do something worse. He reached out and touched her arm, ignoring her flinch.

"I. Am. Not. Going. To. Hurt. You. At. All."

"Really?"

She sounded so incredulous it broke his heart.

"I promise I will never hurt you, or let anyone else hurt you, as much as I can."

And then she folded into his arms and started crying and he rocked her back and forth, food forgotten.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-8076 –Wolverine &amp; Shadow + Marie<em>

"Where's the Shadow?"

"We eat separately. We used to argue all the time about kosher/non-kosher food so we decided it would be easier just to prepare our own food and eat separately. Oh, the fights we had…"

"You actually have fights over food?"

"Oh, we fight about almost everything. It's part of our life. She's the responsible, mature one and I'm the immature, irresponsible kid. At least, that's what she says. I refute that statement."

She giggled into her meal, eyes sparkling at him.

"You really aren't at all how people imagine you."

He shrugged.

"Yeah. Tana's full of surprises. Hey, she fell in love and I didn't know anything about it until she started crying one night. Close to thirty years **after** it had happened."

"Who?"

He grinned wolfishly then raised his can of beer.

"And **that** would be telling."

"Comon."

"Nope."

"Please."

"I won't betray her trust. Also, she said if I ever told anyone, she'd castrate me."

"Isn't that just an empty threat?"

"She doesn't **do **empty threats. She does big, dangerous threats."

"Like?"

"Piranhas when I broke the wireless. She dropped **piranhas** in my bath! She didn't even **warn** me!"

"ARE YOU TELLING TALES AGAIN, LOGAN!"

"NO!"

Marie returned to her fits of helpless giggles. There was something incredibly funny about hearing these two fight like a mother and her teenage son.

"Are you always like this?"

"What? Yelling at each other from across the house? Oh yeah."

"I HEARD THAT!"

"YOU HEAR EVERYTHING, TANA, BECAUSE YOUR EARS ARE SO BIG!"

"AND YOU ARE NOW GROUNDED, YOUNG MAN!"

"YOU CAN'T GROUND ME, I'M AN ADULT NOW!"

"JUVINILE INSULTS MEAN YOU ARE A CHILD AND YOU WILL BE TREATED LIKE ONE. AND YOU'LL BE GROUNDED FOR **TWO** **YEARS** IF YOU DON'T SHUT UP!"

He slumped down in his chair.

"I'm a hundred, for crying out loud. And she **still** treats me like I'm seventeen."

He looked up and blinked in astonishment. Marie was about to fall off her chair, her entire body shaking with silent laughter.

"What…?"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-2182 –Professor W's X-Men<em>

No one was expecting it. But then the door opened and she stepped into the room, dressed in some of Wanda's old clothes, long hair now cut and the deep, criss-crossing scars covered by long sleeves. The scarlet drained her pale face, but her hair already did that. She staggered slightly but Ro caught her and gently lowered her into a chair.

"You shouldn't be up yet."

She shook her head, trying to dispel the cobwebs.

"Needed…up…out…"

"Calm down. Relax. She can eat with us, can't she?"

"Of course Ororo."

Logan stared at her. She shouldn't have even got up, let alone walked the distance from the Medi-Lab to the kitchen. Wanda had handed over the clothes, on the basis that she couldn't wear them right now, what with the baby and all and also, by the time the 'irritating German demon baby' was born, the 'guest' would have new clothes. Kurt had played at being hurt but everyone knew it was just Kurt and Wanda being…well, Kurt and Wanda.

She seemed…broken. Her eyes wouldn't meet any of theirs. He still hadn't gotten around to naming her. Names had flashed up in his mind but none had fitted. She seemed…unnameable, the woman with no name, why defied his efforts. Her hands were shaking, and he guessed she must have suffered nerve damage at some time to result in the constant shivering fingers. He wanted to reach out and catch those hands, tell her she would be alright, she didn't have to be afraid anymore.

They put food in front of her but she seemed wary about eating. He wanted to sit beside her, help her shaking hands manoeuvre the food into her mouth but she seemed desperate to do it herself, to be independent and he couldn't deny her that. She was going to pull herself out of this or die trying. And he had to respect her for that. But right now, he was going to stop Scott from making a comment as she struggled to pick up a knife.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6751 –Age of X<em>

She didn't bemoan the small rations, or spend time trying to decide what to eat. She just pointed wordlessly, and took the food given to her, never speaking a word. He followed her. Erik and Etana had agreed together, it was better to keep the woman under observation. Then they had rushed off to do whatever it was Etana and Erik did together while they were running Fortress X. He remembered the day the photos had come out, the Master of Magnetism and the Angel of Shadows fighting back to back. Since that day, Etana had always been at Erik's shoulder, supplying her tactical and strategic wisdom as well as being an inspiring speaker. Although Logan had a sneaking suspicion her "Arise brothers (and sisters) in arms and genetics, today is the day we strike back against the forces of oppression!" speech was copied from somewhere else, no matter **what** Etana said. Well, actually she'd said something about copyright laws not being in place at the time.

He sat down beside her, not speaking. He was actually afraid of her. Never once had he seen a flash of emotion cross her face, not even pain. He could understand pain being hidden. He himself was spectacular at hiding pain. But those eyes, those cold dead eyes never registered even the slightest flicker of amusement, sadness, sorrow, anger. Even the usually stoic Namor allowed his eyes to demonstrate his emotions. Basilisk was careful never to let his face register emotion but Logan could tell from slight changes close to the mask that his eyes changed. Summers may be good at hiding, but he could still **feel**. And she couldn't. She didn't understand. He would call her a psychopath, but she wasn't. She was honest, brutally so. And no one who had seen her take that bullet for Legacy could call her selfish. She just didn't understand emotions. It was like she was a different species entirely, a robot mind in a human body.

She ate like she did everything else; swiftly, functionally, simply preparing for the next battle. Then she turned her emotionless eyes to him.

"Why do they not trust me? Haven't I proved I am willing to kill all our enemies?"

"That's the problem. You're **too** willing, too much of a weapon. Etana doesn't believe we should use you like they were going to. She's always been like that."

"You are not using me. I lay myself at your feet."

"You don't, **can't** understand!"

"Is this about my unfeeling?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. We… Do you know…? No, you can't. You can't understand. We want, **need** people to **feel** what is being done to us, to understand the injustice-"

"I can see it."

"But you don't **feel** it. You know it's wrong. You know we are oppressed. But you can't feel the despair, the anger, the pain. You can't **feel**. And we don't know what to make of it. Remy… You hurt him. He's an empath and he looks at you and his head just about explodes."

"Why?"

"Because you're **empty**. That's how he puts it. Not hiding, not invisible. **Empty**. You **should** be feeling, but you don't."

"I cannot change what they did to me."

"Erik can. He's offered to."

"Can he get metal chips out of an unbreakable metal skull without permanently damaging the brain? The chips weren't designed to be removed. They cannot be taken out."

He hated her expressionless voice, that didn't rise or fall with anger, questions, joy or sadness. He hated her dead eyes, unable to show the tiniest flicker of emotion. He hated the way she was efficient and deadly, unable to show mercy because she didn't understand the concept. He hated that when people said certain words, she would blink, as if to say, I do not understand. Compassion. Friend. Grief. Joy… Love.

* * *

><p><em><strong>A.N. <strong>__Happy Birthday Jeanniebird! Next chapter, Lessons._


	4. Lesson

_Disclaimer: This is a __**fan**__fiction site. Do you really think I own this?_

* * *

><p>Lesson<p>

* * *

><p><em>Earth-618 –Memories<em>

Her hands smashed into his chest and she swung low, hitting his stomach. He grabbed her hands before she could strike again.

"You fight well. But you fight **dirty**. And there ain't no pride if you fight dirty. If you fight like that, you'll never know if a victory was your doing or just some dumb trick you pulled."

She stared at him, eyes not blinking or showing any signs of backing down.

"It works."

"Are you proud of your abilities?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you cheat?"

"Because that's how I was taught to fight."

"It's not right. I don't want you to cheat. I want you to use your natural talent. I want you to fight **properly**. And when you beat me, because you **will** beat me at some point, then I won't ever tell you not to cheat again. Because once you've done that, you'll never want to fight dirty again."

She stared at him for a long moment, then loosened her grip on his wrists.

"I will try."

* * *

><p><em>Earth 1610 –Ultimate<em>

She was standing behind the commanding officer, looking very graceful and elegant, her hands clasped neatly behind her back as she stood at ease.

"Section Leader Turner here is from the Higher-Ups. She's been sent to keep track of our progress. You treat her with the respect you would give any commanding officer."

"Or what?"

She stepped forward and spoke, her accent giving her a tinge of danger.

"Or you discover why the last thing thirty-three Gestapo agents saw was this."

The handgun appeared out of nowhere. One second she looked like any of the administrative staff, then you got the scent of something **dangerous**. Something lethal and deadly. Thirty-three. She had killed thirty-three men with that innocuous little gun. Something primal inside James recoiled in repulsion.

Some brave idiot had decided to shout out again.

"I bet ya can't actually fire that gun!"

She whipped around and fired three shots. For a second, nothing happened. Then a tent collapsed in on itself, the main guy lines severed by the bullets. She turned round and smiled, revealing sparkling teeth.

"Any problems?"

James smiled to himself. She definitely was going to be interesting to have around.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-523 –Witchkin<em>

They were walking through the courtyard when it happened. A cat shot out, the horse spooked and reared, the cart toppled and the animal was caught in the crossbars, unable to get out. The person driving it ran forward but collapsed, felled by a hoof to the chest. And she ducked under his arms, ran and the chain rattled along the cobbles from where he had forgotten to grab it and he cursed because she'd try and escape, get caught and be killed.

But she didn't run to the open gate. Instead she ran towards the panicking equine and slowed as she neared it, humming low under her breath; hands –which were still chained– stretched out.

"Hush… Shhh…"

The animal relaxed and she wrapped her arms around its neck, then moved suddenly, cutting through the ties that had it pinned down. The horse leapt forward and she remained there, soothing the beast with soft words and gentle caresses, down the neck and nose. Logan stood, completely forgetting that she was an escape risk and he needed to get the chain back. She seemed so peaceful and relaxed with the horse, not the tense, angry woman who had been glaring at him all meal or stabbed him in the hand. He edged forward slowly, slower than she had moved towards the horse. She was leaning on the animal's side and as he edged nearer, he could hear what she was saying with perfect clarity. And he started when he realised she wasn't using the Wildling tongue, speaking another language he vaguely knew the basics of. All he knew was that it sounded soothing, caring and warm.

Looks like she might be useful for something more than hunting on leash after all…

* * *

><p><em>Earth-671 –Powerless<em>

"No, you're holding yourself wrong."

She blushed and shifted, altering the balance of weight.

"Better?"

"Much better. Now, if I strike towards your stomach… Yes!"

She had moved instinctively to intercept the blow.

"Now, try and kick me."

She moved slowly, pivoting on her leg to produce a roundhouse kick. He blocked and smiled.

"You remember the routine we went through last week?"

She nodded.

"Now, let's try it again. Slowly, then we'll speed it up."

She smiled then bowed. He bowed in returned then took up the guard position.

"Go!"

She struck out towards his chest and he intercepted. He went lower but she danced back then kicked out. It was slow, exaggerated, a dance of strikes and parries, beautifully matched between them. She turned slowly and took a sharp intake of breath. He was close. So close. She overbalanced and fell, but he caught her. Instinctively, she struck out. She was still edgy about close physical contact. It still reeked of that alley, where she couldn't do **anything** to help herself. That was the point of these lessons. To learn how to defend herself. She forgot that this was just a lesson and started striking out, using all the moves James had taught her, somehow knowing how to allow them to flow together naturally and smoothly.

He still blocked them all. Then he caught her arms and stared at her.

"You need to learn to control yourself. You strike out, with no plan. You need **discipline**."

She blinked, realising suddenly what he'd been trying to explain for the last few weeks.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-987 –X-Change<em>

The writing was sloppy and barely legible. Logan looked up at Torao, whose eyes were worried.

"Is something wrong?"

"Where did you learn to write?"

He shook his head, looking embarrassed.

"I… I can read and forge signatures. They didn't think I'd need to learn to write anything more than signing stuff. So they never taught me…"

Logan smiled sadly.

"Do you want to learn?"

Torao's eager nod was enough to make Logan feel slightly maternal. He was just a kid after all. An unfortunate, sorrowful child. She pulled out a sheet of paper and a fountain pen, as well as a pencil. The sheet was unlined and a few swift strokes with the pencil and ruler soon changed that. Logan wrote in her cursive script, again wondering who she had once been to result in such a cultured hand and a preference for expensive ink pens over biros. She dotted out the words she had written on the line below and handed Torao the pencil.

"Just join the dots up. Don't try and replicate mine…"

She was staring at Torao's hand. Before she could stop him, he had copied the sentence exactly. So… He could mimic, but not write properly. Logan lifted his hand up and sighed.

"I don't want you to **copy**. Write it, in your own hand."

The result was again barely legible. But it was a start. Logan sat down and started dotting out the same sentence over and over again, until about half-an-hour later, Torao held up the sheet with slightly wobbly handwriting but at least it wasn't the illegible scrawl of earlier. Logan smiled. Somehow she remembered a man's voice, as he pointed out the curves of some letters, a soft scolding for forgetting to dot the is and dashing the ts. The sentence had jumped into her head and she couldn't think why. But Torao had somehow managed to write out every letter with a stubbornness only seen by little children.

"Once more."

And then she held out the pen and slowly, oh so slowly, careful not to smudge the ink, he passed the pen across the page.

_The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog._

* * *

><p><em>Earth-9821 –Starcrossed<em>

She was leaning on the wall as he stepped out of the gate, smiling slightly. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her away.

"You can't… It's too dangerous…"

"Didn't you realise? I'm a classical risk taker. I need the adrenaline to stop me from going **crazy**."

"If…If they caught you… You'd be a threat to the kids… They'd fight you… Hurt you… Capture you…"

She shrugged.

"So what? I'd probably end up in your basement and get to have nice chats with you all the time. And I probably wouldn't get the harassment from the other Brotherhood members. There's a price for being Magneto's favourite."

"You wouldn't get that here…"

"Are you still trying to convert me to your happily ever after dream. I've seen too much. Done too much. Had too much done to me. And I owe Magneto my life. He rescued me when I was abandoned. He cares for me in a way. And I won't leave him until I've paid him back for saving me. I will not owe him a debt. Debts can be twisted."

"Why? You never talk about how he saved you."

She shook her head slightly and started walking down the street, so he had to walk quickly to keep up with her long, loping stride.

"I…I can't tell you. Not **you**. You're all noble and heroic; you'd blame yourself. I blamed you once. But you weren't to know…"

"Please."

She shook her head.

"All I can say is that Magneto saved me from such a great threat that I can't just save his life in return and have my debt absolved. I owe him **everything**. My life, my mind, my soul, my freedom. So I serve him. I will follow him to the ends of the Earth and back. He knows that I am the only one who will never leave his side. And one day… One day we'll be on the same side."

"You think he'll come over?"

"No. I think one day, and that day will be soon, they'll turn on you. They'll turn on you all. Maybe just the mutants, maybe all of you 'heroes'. And then it'll be us versus them. And for all we have power, they have the sheer numbers. When they realise how they outnumber us, then we're doomed. They'll kill or imprison every last one of us, use those who try to buy favour to hunt down the others then kill them. Trust me Logan, our days are numbered. One day when they realise we're just a small minority that they can wipe out and make the whole world safer for them. No matter that most of us had no choice."

She was staring into the distance. Logan looked at her, the pensive flicker in her eyes.

"Are you thinking about your family?"

She shook her head but he could tell she was lying.

"Why should I care for people I have no link to but blood? Mutantkind are my family now."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-321 –Weapon Plus<em>

They were fighting together, their first mission together in the field. She knew the handlers were slightly disappointed by the lack of any mating interest. But how could there be any? They forgot her age at times. She only counted the days she was sure of. Then added about a year, for all the days she had screamed and burned, unable to guess the passing of time. She was eighteen. Too young to be interested in a mate. And she knew about the breeding program. She'd **been** on the program for a while, four years back. It had been just after her mind had been 'shattered' by the pain and they'd realised their star project was no longer the bright light they thought she was. Breeding had seemed the next step. She'd killed the male they put her in with. So they changed the rules and put her in the field. She'd remembered enough from Before to impress them.

Wolverine signalled and she dodged forward, keeping low, almost running on all-fours. The mission was simple. Rescue the hostages, kill the kidnappers. Her job was to get them out, then return to back up Wolverine. He blinked at her and she blinked back, then they both leapt, crashing through windows. She rolled instinctively then jumped up, claws slicing through the first man's stomach, ignoring the intestines tangled over her wrist. She inhaled, caught her objectives' scent and ran towards it, trusting Wolverine totally to protect her back. She burst into the room, killed the guards and grabbed the youngest hostage, who looked too young to run properly. The others cowered away from her and she snarled slightly. Then her face softened as she felt their fear and held out a hand. The eldest, a boy of about twelve grabbed it, the others linked up in one big line and they charged out together. As soon as they were clear, she dumped the toddler onto the boy. Then she charged back into the building, past the adults who had lived there and now lay in a bloody heap, not her victims but those of the men she was to kill. A man with brown hair and red glasses askew. A beautiful woman with white hair and dark skin. A pretty red-head, underneath the body of the glasses man, who had tried and failed to shield her with his body. A bald man, broken from where his wheelchair had been flung from the top floor with him still in it.

Finding Wolverine was easy. Together they carved a path through the men and then Tigress halted. A body lay spread-eagled on the ground. One of the children, no older than thirteen. A girl, black hair everywhere, green eyes clouded with pain and death. Tigress could smell what the men had done to her and snarled slightly, inhaling to get the scents. Those men would be a long time dying. Then Wolverine was beside her and he reached out gently and closed the girl's eyes. Tigress stared at the girl for one long moment then returned to her fight, unaware she'd just found the body of her sister.

And together, they carved their way through the Xavier Institute and whilst they did, she pondered the humanity of closing the girl's eyes.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-735 –Saviour<em>

She shook her head.

"No, it's not hard. Look, you just relax, and think of something calming and you'll be **fine**."

"Easy for you to say. You **live** for these events. I can't hobnob like you."

"Right, it's **simple**. It's just a fundraiser that I have to cover for the Bugle."

He snorted and tugged at his collar.

"What's with the monkey suit?"

"Most of the donors are very rich and influential. They won't go to a party unless the dress code is highly posh. Hence the dress."

It was an amazing fashion piece. The same gold as her eyes, long and flowing, a high front and almost no back. She noticed him looking at her appreciatively.

"My sister. She's always been the fashion-conscious one. All my evening-wear was picked by her, including this piece. Well, my entire evening-wear is this dress and a black one which isn't as revealing."

"It's just your back…"

"You haven't been to these events, have you? Put it this way, Tony Stark is the **least** of your problems. He flirts like hell but he doesn't pressure you. He doesn't have to. Most women go for the reputation or the money. If you act uninterested, he'll back off sharpish. It's the ones like his cousin Morgan you have to watch out for. Won't take no for an answer and get nasty when you get short. A date means I don't have to worry about being harassed. Especially a date as physically threatening as you."

"Thanks…"

"I mean that. You're my protection. And you're wonderful conversation. Oh, there's Peter! Oi, Parker!"

The teenage photographer hurried over, dressed slightly less formally than Logan.

"How come he doesn't have to wear a tux?"

The boy looked embarrassed.

"I can't afford one and JJ won't fork out for a rental."

"Sorry…"

"So, you're the first guy to ever manage to get invited by Marie to one of these things?"

"What?"

"She's got a reputation for never going with **anyone **to these things."

The car ride passed in companionable silence. It was at the party, during one of the dances, that Logan noticed Marie looking angry at a guy who smelt suspiciously **Starky**. Logan hurried over.

"Hey Marie. You lured me here under false pretences. We've not danced once."

She blushed then hissed in his ear.

"I can't…"

"What?"

"I can't dance… I never learnt how…"

He smirked.

"Luckily, I can."

It was pretty simple, just a basic waltz. Once again, he marvelled at the ease with which he knew things like how to dance, formal etiquette and –once he'd got here- how to socialise and not threaten to stab anyone. Marie stumbled slightly in her heels and he caught her.

"And it's **one**, two, three. **One**, two, three. **One**, two, three."

They swept across the floor, him showing her how to dance; her trusting him to do it properly.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-3799 –Teaching the Gifted<em>

Jane sat silently in the back of the class. Etana was busy, so had requested she sat in to see how well Marc Circen taught. Charles had seemed impressed by the credentials and the students liked him, but Etana had been slightly put out she hadn't been a part of the interview process, not that she told Circen that.

The students filed in and more than one grinned at her and a few even called her name. This was the second set, with Etana taking those students with a genius level in languages. Marc bounced in and smiled broadly.

"_Bonjour la classe._"

They all grinned and responded… In an entirely different language.

"_Ciao Signor Circen._"

He smiled at them all.

"_Hoy vamos a aprender algo de español_."

He'd switched languages again, but the class seemed okay with it. This seemed to be the link throughout the entire lesson. Despite teaching them Spanish, he'd switch between the languages he was teaching them in, every now and then halting to point out a close link between the languages and explaining the common root.

She had to admit, she was impressed with his grasp of the language. Sometimes he'd state another, more informal, way of saying what he'd just taught and every now and then halting and starting a conversation in Spanish with a student. Then the bell rang, he sent off a rapid stream of Spanish, stating homework and what books they'd need in the next lesson and dismissed the class. Jane leant back, satisfied that Charles had done it again.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-21267 –Agents of SHIELD<em>

He leant back against the wall as Tasha sparred with Tora on the parallel bars. The two women were yelling insults at each other in Russian as they tried to cause the other to fall off the narrow bars they were fighting on. Tora flipped and landed on the right parallel bar and when the Widow leapt, she dodged under the arm, over the middle bar and landed neatly on the one on the far left. Tasha swore and Tora stuck her tongue out. Logan smirked as Natasha lost it and started fighting sloppily. Tora always seemed to know exactly which buttons to press to drive her opponents crazy. She'd explained that physiological manipulation had been a major part of her training. She didn't go into much detail, although on hearing about Taskmaster, she stood very still for a long moment. Then she'd spoken.

"His gifts come from the Nazi version of the Super-Solider Serum. Weapon X-ii gained the formula and after numerous tests, discovered a way of passing over the memory loss. I… I was six when they injected me…"

He'd turned to her.

"You can learn something just from watching it?"

She'd nodded.

"I'm a polymath and have photographic memory. As long as the thing doesn't require powers to use, I can copy it directly. That's how they taught me so quickly. I couldn't **not** pick things up. They compressed decades of training into a matter of months. And I kept on learning, because I **wanted** to know stuff."

Fury had been mad she had 'forgotten' to tell SHIELD this piece of information and immediately began testing her. Another side-effect of her serum was the apparent ability to split her brain up into separate areas, allowing her to jibe, tease and fight as if that were the only thing she was doing. Then he winced as Natasha resorted to one of her stingers, shocking Tora and sending her into spasms. The Widow prepared to push Tora off the bars and win the fight when Tora collapsed flat to the bars, Tasha lunged, fell and faceplanted the ground. Tora leapt off lightly and offered a hand to the red-haired woman, who was laughing as Tora pulled her up. Tora started as Fury obviously called her, waved at Logan then hurried off. Natasha came up, still shaking in laughter. Logan raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"That's… That's the move I used the first time we sparred on the parallel bars and she swore it would come back to haunt me… Oh boy Logan, do you have **any** idea what you're getting yourself into?"

"Yep. Which is why I'm leaving her education in social matters up to you Tash."

"Thanks."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"_Da_."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6176 –Opposites<em>

Part of his cover had been shooting. It allowed him to practise and also gave him an excuse for having a shotgun in the house. Taking Tora to the shooting range had a certain reason behind that. You couldn't fake being **bad** at shooting. It would be obvious you were pulling your shots. He'd be able to gauge her natural talent. What surprised him was the fact she was actually **honestly** hopeless at shooting. It had taken him a while and then he realised something amazing… She'd **never** fired a gun before in her **life**. Wondering how a hired assassin with one of the best reputations in the world could have learnt her trade without using a gun, Logan had decided to research her hits. To his amazement, not a single assassination linked to her had been committed with a gun. Knives, poison, throwing stars and –on one **memorable **occasion- a chocolate teapot, but never a gun.

She was standing in completely the wrong position to fire the gun and he shook his head.

"No. Right, it's like **this**."

She imitated him easily, but as soon as the gun was back in her hands, she shifted. And then he realised where he'd seen that stance before. The Widow's style was completely unorthodox, the very **reason** she was so successful. However, her methods were designed to confuse. Anyone else trying to use the stances she used would more often than not hurt themselves badly. Tora had never learnt how to shoot properly, so instinctively copied her 'big sister'.

"No, you keep standing **wrong**. It's like you've seen someone shoot from that stance, which is just the way to completely ruin your arms with recoil."

She blinked.

"Oh…"

"Right, let's try again. You stand like **this**."

And he couldn't help but start to enjoy teaching her what Etana had taught him.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-19 –Being Normal<em>

He glanced up again at her head. She was leaning forward intently and he couldn't **believe** anyone found Professor Lehnsherr's Ethics lectures interesting. Etana's History classes, certainly. But Professor Lehnsherr was **boring**. Always going on about mutant rights and comparing the oppression of mutantkind to the Holocaust. Etana was **crazy** in lessons, getting them to re-enact battles or showing them how to use a traditional Ancient Egyptian recipe for explosives. At times, Logan wondered if Etana actually was showing her age. She vehemently denied dementia claims, but when you give a classroom of bored mutant teenagers the recipe for Greek fire, you had to wonder about the sanity of the teacher. He jerked back to reality at the sound of his name.

"I **said**, Mr Logan, could you expound on what we've just been talking about?"

"Er… Well, mutants are equal or superior to humans; therefore we shouldn't have to hide from them, etc."

His fingers were crossed. Yeah, that normally was the gist of an Ethics lesson, but not always. But Professor Lehnsherr was glaring at him, therefore he'd got it right. But Marie's hand was up.

"Professor, isn't it our duty as people with great power to help those without it? If the normal humans are afraid of us, it must be with good reason. I can think of at least twelve mutant supremacists who have been responsible for terror attacks all over the globe."

"Ah, Miss Circen… Our new student from London I believe. Well here in the States, mutant rights have been pushed aside quite vigorously. Our national captain didn't marry a mutant, nor is our national hero a mutant, like in your home nation. _Le Tricolore _is a mutant, isn't he?"

"But your lectures seem to suggest that we are the wronged party and that humanity seeks to wipe us out. There are many humans who support our fight for rights. It is the minority on both sides who have caused tremendous damage to human-mutant relations."

Logan sank deeper into his seat. One didn't talk to Professor Lehnsherr like that. It was the one way ticket to detention. But the teacher was leaning back impressed.

"Enlighten us on your views Miss Circen."

"Firstly, human-mutant relations need to be improved. The common man needs to see that not all mutants are terrorists of the calibre of Exodus, to state one from my own country. Outreach groups need to be set up, maybe an all mutant version of the Avengers or Fantastic Four, to show the world that we can be for them as well. Secondly, a mutant needs to be in some position of power in the world stage. I'm not talking President, more a Secretary of State but in one of the G20, or even a G8 country. Thirdly, young mutants whose powers can rage out of control need to be brought to a safe environment until they can harness it. That way, we gain trust by showing that we can self-regulate our youngest and therefore most likely to cause accidental damage. Our numbers are too small for us to afford going to war with humanity. We'd be wiped out."

Professor Lehnsherr stood very still for a second, then smiled slightly.

"Stay back after class to talk to me Miss Circen."

She nodded and Logan felt Kurt lean over.

"She's **dead**."

"Yeah…"

However, when she came out, she was smiling broadly.

"He's invited me to join his debating group. Said if I think there should be outreach, I should start brushing up my rhetoric. What's rhetoric? I don't know that word?"

Logan could only stare at her in amazement.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-40 –DragonBound.<em>

She was crouching low, still in her human form. She seemed to hate hunting in a group and kept wandering off on her own. If Logan were an assassin, she had no protection other than her Cat form. And the dragon. Which sort of tipped the odds in her favour…

Her hand went to the belt and the thin knife hanging there. She dropped into a stance from which she could leap and Shift and Logan felt a sudden rush of amazement. He was about to see someone who had learnt to hunt for survival in action. Whilst many of the Cats farmed or only hunted when they felt like it, the DragonBound's clan still stubbornly stuck to the old hunter-gather lifestyle, meaning she'd grown up tough and highly independent. The Tigers often left their children as soon as the child was old enough to look after themselves and strong enough to bring down prey. According to the girl herself, she'd been left in her twelfth summer and expected to bring down her own prey. The fact she had survived was testament to her skills.

The deer walked closer, her entire body tensed and then she leapt, Shifting halfway through the arc, claws digging deep into the neck and she twisted, bringing the animal down. She smiled then raised her head, Shifting as she did so.

"Hungry Dog-Boy? I'll share."

He stepped forward.

"How did you-"

"Know you were there? Easy. You were **too** still. When your life hangs in the balance, areas that are too still are the most dangerous of all."

He blinked at her. How had she been living that her life was so dangerous? She seemed to get his unspoken question.

"My old territory was right on the borders. Near Man's Land."

He stiffened. Men were feared by all who met them. Whilst they had no natural defences, being stuck in one form and nowhere near as fast or strong as the elves, man seemed capable of inventive leaps beyond anything even the brightest elves could come up with. She smiled at him.

"They were desperate to catch some of the demonic spirits that inhabited the mountains. More than once, I was close to being captured. Once I was…"

She turned away.

"I was so afraid. So terrified of these people who were talking about how they were going to use me to kill their enemies. One day, all our petty differences will be pushed aside. One day, Cats and Wolves will have to fight together, against Man. And we will be forced to retreat, further and further. And then we will end up being their 'pets'. They'll cage us and turn us into curiosities."

Her huge eyes met his.

"Our time on this world is numbered. Soon we will only be a memory…"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-1813 –First Impressions<em>

She was standing by the piano, her fingers gently tracing across the keys. James stepped up behind her.

"You can play if you like."

She started, the lid slammed down on her fingers and she let out a distinctly unladylike curse then raised her fingers to her lips looking abashed.

"I am sorry. My manners are lacking greatly."

He tried to hide his smile but failed terribly.

"You can play. No one plays the piano. Wagner just keeps it to make himself look cultured."

She smiled shyly, sat down and her fingers ran along the ivory.

"You play much?"

She nodded excitedly.

"My guardian, Lady Etana D'Ombre, loves music. Plays as much as she can. I always was a disappointment when it came to music. I have no ear for a good composer at all."

She looked faintly astonished that anyone could not love music. He smiled.

"So, are you good?"

She lowered her head.

"A little."

And her fingers moved lovingly across the keys and somehow she managed to pull some music out of the piano, graceful, wonderful music, the sort Etana used to play very loudly at an ungodly hour in the morning to get him up. He smiled at the memory of her trying, and failing miserably, to get him to show even the **slightest** interest in music. Instead, James had always preferred being outdoors, riding and running. More than once, Etana had sighed and muttered 'Philistine', normally just before giving him a new horse or a dog or something like that.

"You play well."

She shook her head.

"Not compared to some of the ladies around here. My talent is mediocre at best."

"It's better than my attempts."

"Surely it is not too hard?"

"I can't play."

"That is a lie sir. All can play, if they put their minds to it."

"Prove it."

She got up and pointed to the seat. Feeling slightly startled at this very different young lady, James sat. She pointed to the sheets of very simple music that she'd been ignoring.

"Can you at least **read** music?"

"Yes. Lady D'Ombre managed to force that into my head."

"Then you can play."

When –eventually- James had managed to hammer out the tune, he glanced at the clock and realised to his astonishment that this lesson had been going on for over an hour. And she hadn't blushed or looked away once…

* * *

><p><em>Earth-891 –Divided<em>

"I hate how he treats you."

She looked up confused.

"Who?"

"Stark. He flirts with you all the time but you don't seem to mind."

"He's **Tony**. Look, you can't understand. Everyone is so **slow** and here's this mind that's like a firework, all bright and fast and brilliant. And if the price for being able to have contact with a mind like that is lewd comments now and again, then I don't **care**. I **need** challenges, else I stagnant. Last time… Last time I did that, I ended up in rehab. I was **eighteen**."

"Whoa…"

"That's when my parents agreed that fast-tracking me was for the best. I go insane without challenges. Nothing matters, just the work. Speaking to computers, have them talking back. It's like I'm with these alien minds. All logical and following a series of steps. I am **Lord** when I'm with computers. And I've only ever met one other person who understands that need, the **craving **to go one step further…"

"Stark?"

"Yeah. He understands when I talk about setting up programs that are smarter than the smartest human alive, programs that can take initiative, learn from mistakes… He used to try and get me to write weapons programs, at least until Afghanistan…"

"Tried to?"

"I refused. Told him I'd work on the hospital programs and other rescue aid, but not the weapons. Never the weapons. That's when he promoted me… Onto the JARVIS project, which he was still trying to work on."

_Marie, I can't work this out. There are major plot holes in this story._

"That's the JARVIS project?"

"No. **This** is the JARVIS project."

She pulled back a curtain to reveal a child-like robot, huge eyes glowing a soft green.

"Hey JJ."

_Hello Marie. Can you explain?_

"What are you reading?"

_I downloaded Lord of the Flies into my RAM…_

"Delete it. It's a rubbish book."

_Are people really like that?_

Marie said 'No' just as Logan said 'Yes'. They glanced at each other. Then said exactly the same thing at the same time.

"Where have you **been** all your life?"

Marie grinned.

"You first…"

"Spying, soldiering, covert ops…"

"Well of **course** you're going to think that! That's a **terrible** place to learn about human nature!"

"And where did **you** learn it?"

She looked angry.

"In prison!"

He blinked for a second.

"**What**? **You** were in prison? For what? You're like the poster girl for 'on the straight and narrow'! What did you do that got you there?!"

"I had a choice. Rehab or prison. I wasn't just **reliant** on my drug. I was **selling** it."

"What one?"

"Why are you asking?"

"So I know what to smell for."

"MGH."

"WHAT!?"

"Look, I was a kid on the rocks, bored out of my **skull** and so I went into the vigilante business. That wasn't good enough, so I started dealing to pay my share. I got caught when I tried to buy some Hypercortisone D."

"What?"

"It goes by the street name of Kick."

"That's stuff is **dangerous**!"

"Yeah, I know that **now**. But at the time, I was just a hyper-intelligent kid who was trying to alleviate boredom. That's why I trust Tony. He knows all about the addiction. He keeps giving me projects, checks up on me every so often. Sometimes he surprises me by turning up, going through my cupboards and throwing out anything he thinks could cause an addiction. Aside from the coffee… Oh, he learnt the hard way about the coffee…"

"Coffee?"

"I switched from being addicted to MGH to coffee. Subsitution… Rehab didn't mind, as it's not **illegal** so they can put me down as a success. I'm their poster-girl. You know, 'Five years ago I was in rehab, now I'm a high-ranking member of the Stark Industries Research and Development Department.' Blurred face but I sometimes go back, just to see others like me, explain where they went wrong. I **like** to think they appreciate it, but they probably just think I'm a preachy old woman."

"You aren't old…"

"To most of the kids there I am."

He leant back as she returned to giving JJ a book list, pondering over what he'd learnt about her.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-10005 –Movieverse<em>

She was curled up on the bed, rocking back and forth. Logan sat beside her, watching without saying anything. What could he say? Everything will be fine? How could he say that when she could barely see someone moving without flinching? She was broken, totally shattered and unable to understand that this place was **safe**. She was scared stiff of everyone, didn't understand when Ororo handed over some soap and a cloth with a basin of warm water. In the end, Storm had ended up gently sponging the worst of the accumulated grime off her face and arms. How could you teach someone who thought that washing implements were a method of **torture**?

She uncurled and stared at him, unblinking, emotionless. He knew that look. That was a soldier's look, a soldier under pressure, who was trying desperately not to break. It was how you resisted torture. You simply repeated all the **facts** in your head, over and over and over again, determined not to break. He tried to smile in the least threatening way possible.

"Hey."

She cowered further into the bed. He snarled and she shot backwards so fast she toppled off the back. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up, then crossed his arms.

"You ain't making this easy for us!"

She shivered and he didn't know what to do. How do you help someone who knows only servitude? How do you explain the concept of freedom to someone like that? Then he knew.

He gently held her hands and raised her head, so those beautifully exotic golden eyes, that should have reminded him of Mystique but didn't, seeming more in tune with the blue circus dude's eyes, all large and expressive and soulful.

"Who did you belong to?"

She half-opened her mouth then gulped.

"Stryker. Then many other men who only came once, to hurt me. Then you."

He should have been horrified. Instead he was relieved. It made what he was about to do next a lot easier if she thought of him as her master.

"How do you know who you belong to?"

"They tell me. They tell me I am theirs. That my…my 'pretty mutie-"

"No… You don't have to tell me. Right, I'm going to tell you who your new master is."

She cowered, as if afraid he was going to tell her that her new master was Hitler or something.

"You."

"What? I… I don't understand… How…? How can I be my own master? I… I am owned. I was the property of the United States Government."

"You are your own."

She blinked in amazement and then her mouth gaped in understanding.

"Is that what freedom is? When you own yourself?"

"Yes."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-881 –Ξ and X<em>

She was asleep. He gently shifted a strand of hair away from her eyes. He could see how they used her. She was both bait and fisherman at the same time. Lure in the target with the innocent beauty and then kill them. That's how she got the Presidential candidate. There had been a message scrawled in blood on the wall.

_ASSASSINATIONS, LOW, LOW PRICES. DISPLAY. SATISFACTION GUARENTEED OR MONEY BACK. Help me! Help me! Help me! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry._

Fury had decided to ignore the obvious plea for help and simply set the best on the trail. Weapon X, the priciest and pickiest merc that money could buy. He'd taken this job as a favour to Nick and to strike back at the Weapon X £%$*&. He hadn't expected to find a terrified woman who was maybe a borderline schizophrenic or else had some sort direct-line from the head-honchos at Weapon X direct into her skull. He pitied her and felt disgusted at his pity. After all, she was a murderer. But then so was he. And she had no choice over her actions. He felt protective and slightly worried. She was never going to be able to cope with society and she couldn't go outside. Her face was plastered all over the news anyway. He was going to become her new jailor. Maybe a better jailor than her previous ones but a gilded cage was a cage none the less. Of course, if it came to it, he could move her around the world, from one safe-house to another, keeping her away from Fury's wrath. But then she'd come to hate him. He wanted to allow her freedom, but he couldn't. Maybe…

He shook her awake. She flinched then realised who he was.

"Hello…"

"I need to ask you something.

"No one asks me anything…"

"Would you be able to stay in these rooms until I can get you fake papers? I don't want to be a new jailor for you."

She blinked.

"You aren't a jailor. Jailors hurt me and you're kind. You bring me nice food. You don't expect…'favours'…for being kind enough to feed me and bring me clothes and let me wash."

"What kind of 'favours'."

The mime that followed was far too accurate for Logan's liking.

"You **never** have to do that again, understand? Not unless you want to."

She blinked back tears and he let her clutch to his shoulders.

"Do you mean that? Do you honestly, **truly **mean that?"

"If anyone tries to force you to do something like that again, I will hunt them down and kill them."

"You said something about **wanting** to do it. Why would anyone **want** to do that?"

"Some people like it."

Her eyes widened in amazement.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-8076 –Wolverine &amp; Shadow + Marie<em>

"My dear girl, I wouldn't **dream** of fighting you in hand-to-hand first time. No, Logan is a **much** better first adversary. I have a habit of disembowelling my opponents. Old habits die hard, you know…"

The Shadow was leaning on the wall, looking for the whole world like she hadn't just come out of an hour-and-a-half long training session, her voice sounding like a stereotypical upper-class Brit at the turn of the last century. According to James though, she was Israeli by birth and was anything **but** upper-class. A farm-girl with powers was how he described her. A farm-girl with powers who ended up being a trusted advisor of a semi-mythological king he had corrected himself as a second thought. He'd then grinned.

"And I was the exact opposite. Posh as…well… Posh as… Look, I was very rich, then ended up a miner in a little run-down camp in British Columbia and then ended up with Etana. She went up in the world. I spiralled downwards."

She had giggled again. There was something endearing about Wolverine and Shadow's relationship, so fraught with trouble and shouting matches on the surface, yet deeper, full of love and affection, never so clearly apparent as when they'd had a shouting match that involved her stabbing him with a dagger then grounding him for a year (apparently she grounded him every few days, but never followed up. If she did, he'd be grounded for the next couple of centuries) then in the evening they were sitting on the sofa together, throwing food at the TV and screaming at the movie, at which point Shadow fell asleep on Wolverine's shoulder and he didn't bother to move her, just hugged her close. They so obviously cared almost exclusively about the other –according to James, the reason most relationship of his had failed. They considered the other the most important thing in their lives.

She stepped into the training room. Wolverine smirked up at her from the other end of the room, not at all looking as if he'd just had the floor wiped with him. It was entirely true what legends said. If faced by the Shadow and the Wolverine, always go for the Wolverine. If facing the Shadow alone, run. It was entirely obvious who was the most dangerous and talented one. Of course, it might have been because Wolverine went to pieces when he accidentally cut the Shadow's arm with one of his bone claws and started running around for a First Aid kit while she was beating him around the head with a bo staff.

"Are you ready?"

"Kind of. I'm sorry, I was sort of daydreaming."

He grinned.

"Yeah, I used to do that as well. Etana will beat it out of you. No, literally, she will beat it out of you. Now, how strong is your healing?"

"It kick-started when I fell out of a tree aged thirteen and broke my neck."

"Good. So it's pretty strong."

"Yep. But I don't think we should use claws. Mine seem to stop healing."

He nodded.

"Just hand-to-hand then? I'll go easy."

Twenty minutes later he limped to the other side of the room.

"What was **that**?"

She smirked.

"Did I mention I considered making professional tae-kwon-do my career?"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-2182 –Professor W's X-Men<em>

Logan's hand was resting on the girl's forehead.

"You'll be alright. Just don't try that again."

"Thank you."

He sat back, so worried. How did she get into the Danger Room? She'd frozen then tried to attack the robots, only to start convulsing. One of Logan's memories included a solider, little more than a kid, who ended up having an epileptic fit in his first day of basic training. He'd have said the attack she had was like epilepsy but according to Chuck…no. There was something terribly wrong with this woman, something broken and shattered. Something Chuck couldn't fix. Light steps made him turn.

"Hey Wanda."

"I brought you something to eat. Why?"

"What?"

"Why are you putting so much of yourself into keeping this woman alive? What does she mean to you?"

"I… I don't know. She's… she's just hurt. Been hurt so badly, and it's partially my fault…"

Wanda slapped him.

"Don't you **dare** say that **ever** again Logan! What do you think Kurt would say if he heard you talking like that?"

"Ow… Sheesh Wanda, you didn't have to slap me."

"It's the only way to get anything into that thick skull of yours."

"Wanda!"

"It's true Logan. Look at you, you're blaming yourself for something you have no control over! It's like blaming Newton for planes crashes, Asimov for Doombots!"

"Er…"

"Shut up you big lug. Eat. Hey… oh, are you awake?"

The woman nodded slightly. Wanda held out a tray of food.

"Ignore Logan. He's okay but a bit of an idiot about Weapon X. He thinks it's all his fault that he was kidnapped and turned into a living weapon. Don't listen to him, else you'll just end up feeling either really depressed or wanting to go and kill everyone involved. Look, I have to go, Hank will **kill** me if I miss another check-up. Bye."

"Bye Wanda."

The woman waved her hand shyly then looked at him confused.

"Why does she talk to you like that?"

"Wanda? Oh, that's just her way of showing we're friends."

"But the way she talked…?"

"That's her teasing. It's all her way of showing that she cares about you. Seriously, stay here a month and she'll be teasing you all day long. We still haven't thought up a name for you yet."

The woman settled back in the bed, an odd look on her face as she tried to fit in what she'd just been told with her experiences of the world.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6751 –Age of X<em>

She was going through a series of katas that, Logan knew from experience, were deadly. Finally he sighed and stepped out.

"You need to cool-down. You're time's almost up."

She instantly started her equally aggressive cool-down but he stopped her.

"Try this."

He moved slowly, passively. She copied him and for the first time he watched an oddly peaceful expression slip over her face. Most of the time she only displayed blank concentration. Even when she was fighting there was never anger or worry there. He even watched her kill a man with a look of slight boredom on her face.

She stopped suddenly.

"Why do this?"

"It's…calming. A way of getting the stress out. You need to be able to let out some of the aggression. Otherwise you just end up losing control."

She shook her head.

"I **don't** lose control. I have **never** lost control. Losing control is a product of emotions, a weakness I lack."

"Emotions aren't weaknesses!"

"Your reaction suggests otherwise."

"They aren't. Without emotions… Without emotions, you aren't **human**. Humanity is **feeling** as well as thinking. If all you do is **think** then you're just a machine, a robot. You need to **feel**!"

"Emotions are a weakness. Your reaction is an example."

"No, it's not! Look at you! You won't ever give mercy because you have no empathy! You'll never feel pity, only think 'that shouldn't have happened'. You'll never understand why we fight, because you can't **feel** the injustice! You can't lose control because you don't **have** control! Supressing emotions aren't **controlling** them! You can't control what you don't have!"

She stared at him, her eyes unreadable, as always.

"You are angry with me."

It was a statement of fact, not a question.

"No! I'm angry at the people who did this to you and your pig-headed stubbornness but not at you. Never at you."

She stared at him for a long moment.

"What is mercy then? What is pity? What is anger and sadness and fear and loss? Explain them to me."

"I can't. You can't **explain** emotions, not to someone who can't **feel** them."

She stared at him for a long second then turned away.

"I do not want to feel. Feeling causes weakness. Emotional involvement damages you."

And then he realised.

"You used to be able to feel. And they hurt you, didn't they? There was someone you cared about and they hurt you through them so you're refusing to allow yourself to feel because that just opens you up to the pain again. You're **scared**, even though you don't realise it."

She snatched up her towel and marched out. Logan smiled softly. He'd touched a nerve.

* * *

><p><em><strong>A.N. <strong>__Sorry about the terrible delay. The next chapter, _Fight_ is one tenth of the way through. Hooray! (Sarcasm, can you tell?)_


	5. Fight

_Disclaimer: This is a __**fan**__fiction site. Do you really think I own this?_

* * *

><p>Fight<p>

* * *

><p><em>Earth-618 –Memories<em>

They were together in comfortable silence, both thinking about what they had just been talking about and comparing their experiences. He didn't look up at her curled up in the bed, just as she didn't look at him sitting in the chair he'd pulled up.

"Hello _mien Freunds_. How are the X-Men's suicidal X-ii and their Weapon X?"

Logan sensed rather than saw Tora sit up.

"Pardon, _mon amis_?"

He'd noticed that. When she was worried or angry about something she slipped into French, the only clue into her origins.

"Oh, has our surly Canadian not told you all about our fights with Alpha Flight in Calgary? Too bad. That was one amazing fight. You see, _Herr_ Logan over there was the precious 'Weapon X' of the Canadian government. He resigned to join the X-Men so the Canadian equivalent of the Avengers only more government run, was sent to bring him back."

Kurt could tell he'd said something wrong. Logan had his head buried in his hands and Tora was sitting stock-still. Whatever was wrong, he guessed it would be better if he wasn't there when the fireworks started. He 'ported away as fast as he could and decided he'd go out with Amanda for a while.

As soon as Kurt had left, Logan turned to look at Tora.

"It's not as bad as it sounds…"

"Don't talk to me."

Her voice was icy, harsh. She was deliberately not looking at him, her eyes focussing on the wall behind his head.

"Tora…"

That seemed to crack the smooth veneer.

"GET AWAY FROM ME! DON'T TALK TO ME, DON'T EVEN LOOK AT ME! Every word you ever told me was a lie! You pretended to be a friend, when all the time you were responsible for this! You lied and lied and lied again, all covering up your past!"

"Please Tora, let me explain…"

"How many people did you kill 'Weapon X'?" The name was filled with hate, "How many men and women have pleaded with you and you killed them anyway? Can you remember their names, their faces? Or have you killed so often they're all one to you?"

"Tora, please…"

That was it. She exploded, launching herself off the bed Xavier had ordered her to remain in. Claws slid out of her tightly clenched fists as she screamed at him.

"GET OUT! JUST GET OUT!"

And rather than face the delicate, spindly claws that could actually kill him, Logan fled, leaving Tora to scream after him in English, French, Japanese, German and Russian.

* * *

><p><em>Earth 1610 –Ultimate<em>

He walked up behind her as she leant over the map, moving the little models.

"If you move the 19th to the west by six miles, the whole front line will be more secure and less men will die."

"Turner?"

She whipped around, hand slipping for the gun. Then she dropped it down but still looked guarded.

"Yes? What are you doing in here?"

"I was sent to bring you to the commandant's tent…"

"He knows that's out of the question."

"You aren't a soldier, Turner. We both know that."

And now she drew the gun, pointing right between his eyes. Her carefully cultivated accent dropped, thickening to French.

"Who told you?"

"It's not that hard to guess. You understand more military strategy than most generals; you speak English, French and German fluently; you obviously outrank everyone here. You're a spy or a spycatcher. I'm guessing you're here about the mole."

The gun clicked back.

"What do you know about the mole?"

"Only what I've heard. We know there's someone high up spilling secrets. We guessed someone would be sent to deal with them."

The gun was still levelled right between his eyes. And then she spoke, calmly and softly.

"I have been trained to kill a man without feeling one shred of remorse. My orders were clear. Any and all who stood in my path were to be eliminated. So talk. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now. I can claim self-defence. Not too hard to believe a soldier who hasn't had female company for a few months could lose his inhibitions. Everyone's seen you talking to me. And my controller will tie up all the loose ends."

He gulped, suddenly realising that the woman standing in front of him was more ruthless and loyal than anyone he'd ever met.

"I'm waiting. Give me a reason not to kill you and any other man you may have told my secret to."

And James' throat was dry as he tried to speak, but all he could see was the finger tightening on the trigger.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-523 –Witchkin<em>

The horse snuffled into her arms as she brushed the neck. She looked peaceful. But then she caught his scent and stepped back, looking angry. She spoke in Wildling, as she always did.

"Why are you here?"

"The Shire needs to be readied. We're going to the town."

"To buy more **slaves**?"

"To save more lives."

She turned away and moved over, the chain on her feet clinking. She was chained to the pipe Max had rigged up around the wall, allowing her to walk around the stables, climb into the hayloft where Logan assumed she slept at night. She had the freedom to move anywhere in the stables but she couldn't leave. But then she never showed any inclination to. He glanced at her, never a direct stare, never anything she could construe as a threat. She suddenly turned to him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Pardon?" Bluff his way out, get her to forget.

"You keep looking at me."

"You don't seem to be getting the Shire ready."

"He needs rest. I had to lance a blister on his hoof. He can't walk for a while."

"He needs to be ready in three hours."

"Not possible. He needs a day at least."

"I wonder about you at times. You hate all humans but you obviously care for the horses. So what happened? Your fear goes far beyond what Wildlings usually have. So who hurt you? Who terrified you? Who turned you against humanity?"

She stiffened for the barest second then suddenly moved, flinging the brush at his head. Logan ducked, then stared.

"I brushed a nerve there. Didn't I?"

He expected an insult, or another thrown object. He didn't expect her to launch at him, chain rattling on the floor as she pushed him to the ground, fists pummelling his stomach, chest, head, wherever she could reach. He backed away and she lunged again, only for the chain to tighten and prevent her from coming closer.

"Face me! Face me like a true Wildling, not the Packless cur you are!"

She lashed out but he dodged back.

"Face me, damn you!"

"Why should I? After all, I'm just a Packless cur."

And he turned and left, as she screamed curses after him.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-671 –Powerless<em>

James knocked but she didn't answer the door. Sighing, he pulled out the key. She'd given it to him for when she had a panic attack and needed to ring someone. Okay, probably shouldn't be used when invited around for dinner. But for all he knew she could be curled up on the floor, shaking in terror. The first thing he saw when he entered the hall was that the mirror had been removed. Please not this again… He shouted out that he'd seen himself in and heard a sudden 'Oh!' from the kitchen. He opened the door into the bathroom and sighed. The mirror was covered with a towel.

"Marie!"

She came out looking harassed.

"Why is the mirror covered?"

She shuddered.

"I'm **hideous**."

He rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"No you're not."

She gulped, looking nervous.

"James, I don't want to have to look at it."

He grabbed her shoulders and steered her into the bathroom then pulled the towel off the mirror. She closed her eyes and tilted her head away but he forced her to look at her face. She winced, obviously not liking seeing the four straight lines down over the right side of her face and the milky eye. He'd hoped she'd got past the denial stage. That she'd accept that she was half-blind in her right eye and that her face had been ripped open by the knife that had been used to back her into the alley in the first place. He'd hoped she was accepting it. The surgeons had tried but the scars had been too bad to fix. The eye had hope. He knew she was somewhere on the list for a cornea transplant which should hopefully restore her full sight but until then everything she saw through her right eye was a swirling mess of colours and abstract shapes.

"Look at it. That's your face. Get used to it."

"James, please stop it…"

"Covering up the mirrors isn't going to change what happened. Are you trying to persuade yourself that the scars don't exist? Do you think that if the scars don't exist then it never happened? Marie, this isn't **healthy**! You're trying to pretend it never happened, trying to wipe it from history! You'll never be able to confront it if you don't accept that it happened!"

She pulled away and glared at him.

"You're telling me to accept what that…that…that…_connard_ did to me?"

"No! I'm telling you to accept that it **happened**! That it happened and you can't change that! But you can't get over it without accepting that it happened! And that includes accepting that he knifed you!"

She was mad now.

"Are you saying I'm trying to pretend it didn't happen?!"

"Yes!"

"Well, I am! And with good reason! You don't know what it's like, to be totally helpless, to have someone like **that** crowding you in and telling you to stay still and when you try and hit out he pins you to a wall and drags the knife right over your eye so it blinds you! And when you still struggle, he does it again! And you try and run so he does it again! And you try to shout out, scream for help and he slices you one last time and splits your lips so you can't talk for choking on your own blood!"

"Marie…"

"And then he forces you down and…and…and…"

And then she sank down, holding her legs close to her as she started to cry. He leant down to try and comfort her but she pulled away. When she spoke her voice was dead and emotionless.

"Just go."

"Marie…"

"Just **go**."

"Mar-"

"Leave. Now."

He stood and stared at her for a long moment, then sighed and turned away.

"I'm sorry Marie. But you can't heal until you accept it happened. You'll always be looking over your shoulder, always scared of shadows and things that go bump in the night. You need to accept that; yes, it happened; no, you can't do anything about the past but yes, you **can** get over what he did to you. If you stay like this, you're letting him win. Please don't let that piece of $%* win. Because I care too much about you to let him destroy you like this."

And he let himself out.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-987 –X-Change<em>

He was coiled up in the bed, eyes closed, head tilted back. Logan tipped her chair back slightly and sighed.

"I need to see the scars. We need to be able to assess the damage."

His eyes snapped wide open and he sat up; self-consciously pulling his shirt closer around his chest; protectively backing up so his back was against the headboard, preventing Logan from getting a look at the cruel scars that criss-crossed over his back. It was amazing he'd managed to keep them hidden for so long. Logan winced again as she thought of the X slashed through flesh then moved so his whole back was a mess of blood and ripped muscle, crosshatching back and forth, lines criss-crossing again and again, like someone had drawn parallel lines diagonally across the plain canvas of his back then rotated it ninety degrees and done it again. He was looking nervous.

"It's fine! I've had them for years! The blades that did it were sterile and whenever she ripped them open I just healed. There's nothing wrong with me."

"I want to see if we could fix it…"

His head shake was violent and emphatic.

"I have them for a reason."

"What? What reason can you give for **that**!"

His eyes were suddenly fixed on hers.

"I refused to kill a man. I refused to kill a man and they did that to me. I don't want to lose the lesson I had that day."

"What **lesson**?"

"That being true to what you believe will mean you suffer."

Logan snorted.

"That's the biggest piece of $%* I've ever heard. They shouldn't have done that to you. Especially because you couldn't kill a man you'd never met."

He looked down then seemed to decide something before looking back up.

"What if I told you that the man who they wanted me to kill had murdered my only friend in the world right in front of my eyes after beating him, hurting him in every way imaginable and all the time my friend was staring at me with these huge eyes, so afraid of what was happening and expecting me to help him? And I couldn't."

Logan couldn't say anything. Torao stared at him, eyes emotionless and dead.

"They were giving me the man who tortured my best friend –the only light in my hell- and I didn't kill him. Instead I helped him up and told him I forgave him. And then he was shot right in front of my eyes. I was fourteen years old. The first man I ever saw murdered was when I was five. All because some big shots wanted a new 'Weapon X'. I swear, if I ever find that woman…"

Logan gulped and suddenly Torao's face was close to hers.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to her?"

"No…"

"I am going to kill her. I am going to kill her slowly and in the most painful way I can devise. I am going to put her through everything I went through. I am going to torture her best friend in front of her eyes. I am going to cut her friend's throat. Then I'm going to beat her until she can't move without screaming in agony. I'm going to hurt her so much she begs me to kill her. And I won't. I'll just keep hurting her until she does the only thing she **can** and dies. Then I'll bring her back and kill her all over again."

Logan edged backwards slightly.

"Wasn't she manipulated like we were? Tortured as we were…? We can't… We…"

Torao's eyes were wild now.

"They tortured you as well, didn't they?! They tortured you in **her** name! We deserve retribution!"

"But not against her…"

His eyes were wide and dangerous.

"Against all the scientists and financial backers and most importantly against **her**! You think we would be like this if she wasn't **everything **they wanted her to be! She's as much the one who turned us into this as the men who strapped me down and injected me with boiling metal!"

Logan stood up.

"If you think like this Torao, then you're obviously not stable enough to be on the X-Men. I'm sorry."

She walked out, managed to get to her own room without breaking down and then she collapsed on her bed and started crying. What had she done in a previous life to deserve **this**? Where one of her best friends wanted to kill her? What had she done to deserve this…?

* * *

><p><em>Earth-9821 –Starcrossed<em>

They walked together and he sighed.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you work for him? We can help you. Please. Join us."

She rounded on him.

"He saved me! I care deeply for him. He means a great deal to me. I owe him my whole **world**! He **is** my world! Without him I'd be lost forever! I'd be a pawn to be used against our own kind! Erik is **everything** I want to be, want to prove I can be! He has suffered as I have! He was forced to shovel the bodies of his own people into furnaces! He is the only person on this misbegotten ball of **mud** spinning in an empty void that I would do **anything** for! I would spy for him, lie for him, **die** for him!"

"So it's like **that**? Come on, Mags is old enough to be your **grandfather**."

"I love him as the father I never had and I will never betray him!"

"You think of him as your **father**?"

"Yes. And the Scarlet Witch is like my sister and Pietro seems to care for me like a brother but they came later. I was Magneto's first recruit. I'm the one he treats like his daughter. I'm the one who he saved from **hell**!"

"What did he save you from then!?"

"You really want to know? You **honestly** want to know?! Fine! I was fourteen and they decided to pump my bones full of adamantium and ordered me to kill a man. I refused and they decided to 'break' me. First they tortured me. They cut my back open again and again and again. Then they starved me. Then, when I was so weak I could barely move, they sent a man into my cell. He pinned me down, and…and…" She was gulping back her breaths. "Then the ceiling was torn away and Magneto saved me. He saved me and I owe him **everything**. So don't you **dare** order me to leave him!"

She stormed off, tears streaking down her face.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-321 –Weapon Plus<em>

She leapt up and he snarled, trying to force her to back down. She refused, stepping towards the kill. It was **her** kill! She ate first! He snarled again as she lunged. She pulled at the carcass, knowing that if she backed down now he would always be the first to eat, the first to drink. He'd be the alpha and she wasn't prepared to let him have that honour. When she pulled it out of his reach he glowered at her and let out a low, threatening growl.

She bared her teeth in return and cut out some meat. Instantly he leapt at her and had her throat in his teeth as he snarled. She kicked him off of her, ignoring the blood now running down her neck. She lunged at him, clawed at his eyes. He flipped so now he was pinning her and she struggled to try and get loose. He was pressing down on her, lips parted back as he snapped at her neck again. She went still and tilted her head back, made him think he had won then brought up a knee. He yelped and she used his distraction to her advantage, flipping him so she was now the one bearing down on him. Her lips slid back to reveal her sharp, white teeth. The short bark was telling him to submit. It was her kill after all. He used his greater mass to throw her so she slammed into a tree. She whinged as the rough bark tore into her back as she slid down the trunk. He was eating, thought the fight was over, that she'd submitted. Therefore, when she barrelled right into him and sank her teeth into his arm he wasn't expecting it. He howled in shock and she bit down harder. He cuffed her and blood spurted from her mouth where her tooth had torn her tongue. They were grappling with each other, nails leaving bloody tracks on each other's arms and chest when the handlers ran in and shouted in anger. They ignored the cries to stop and continued to fight –her biting his neck; him digging his nails into her stomach so she bled. Then they were being forced apart and lunged again. This time they were shocked into unconsciousness. The man holding the control box sighed.

"Filthy animals…"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-735 –Saviour<em>

She was typing into the netbook, ignoring him as he wandered around her place. Small, open-plan and relaxed, the apartment was almost the stereotype of an up-and-coming professional. One corner was cluttered with files, cuttings and reams of paper. Logan wandered over to see a small clipping on the wall, framed and placed with some pride, especially considering the subject matter. Marie seemed to tell he was watching it.

"That was my first published article. I keep it there to remind me that there's always room for improvement."

Logan read it quickly.

"On the rising number of 'marvels'? Kid, are you **insane**?"

She tilted her head away.

"Phil called them Marvels. He was the one who encouraged me to take up writing professionally."

"Phil? Phil **Sheldon**? You worked with Phil Sheldon?"

She nodded absent-mindedly, continuing typing swiftly. Logan turned to her.

"Why don't you tell people you're a mutant?"

She stopped typing and turned round to him.

"There's a lot at stake…"

"You're a popular writer. You could shift the balance."

"It's not that simple. Logan, I could lose my job, my reputation, **everything**. JJ would lose credibility, maybe even lose the Bugle. They'd be attacked as mutie-lovers, threatened. The paper may even end up going under. I can't risk it."

"You mean you're scared."

She stood and he suddenly wished he could take the words back. Her eyes were flashing angrily.

"I would **never** stop myself from doing what is right. Revealing who…**what** I am will only bring more harm than good. I will hurt those I care about. And I will **never** let that happen."

"You could do so much good!"

She shook her head sadly. He turned away angrily.

"Then why don't you work as a hero?"

She was staring at him. He could feel it.

"I'm not a hero. The heroes always need the bard to tell their tale. I'm the bard. It's my job to tell your stories, so no one forgets them."

"That's another way of saying you're too scared."

She grabbed his shoulders, pulled him around and slapped him. Hard.

"Listen to me! I'm no good with fighting! My talent is **words**! And when all is said and done, words are the most important thing there is!"

He stared at her for a long moment then picked up his hat.

"Thanks for letting me stop here for a while."

And then he left, anger boiling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-3799 –Teaching the Gifted<em>

She watched as he laughed with Kurt, made a joke in German that had the Drama teacher clutch his stomach to hold himself upright. Jane walked over, face twitching slightly as she struggled to control herself.

"Marc?"

"_Oui_?"

"Etana wants to talk to you."

Marc grinned at Kurt then walked over to Jane.

"About what?"

"The Quire incident."

Marc frowned.

"The boy was deliberately raising trouble."

"Yes. And you should have gone to Etana or one of the Heads."

"If I did, I would have appeared weak to the students and opened myself to further rebellion."

"You shouldn't have reacted how you did!"

Marc's eyes flashed.

"So what are you saying I should have done? Left the class, leaving him to disrupt the entire lesson, all to fetch Etana who was in a meeting on the other side of the school?"

"There's a **phone **in your class."

"Jane, he threw chalk at me when I turned my back. He deliberately challenged me. And when he threw that textbook… I just reacted. Returned it, on instinct."

"You lost control."

And then Marc was glaring at him.

"And I suppose you never do!?"

He stormed off.

"I can go to Etana's myself!"

Jane groaned then glanced around. Swore silently under his breath.

"Class! Now!"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-21267 –Agents of SHIELD<em>

He closed his eyes, waiting for the bullet to pierce his heart. And then a burst of gunfire, a muffled scream and when he opened his eyes, she was between him and the men, gun thrown aside as she leapt neatly around the room, taking down her opponents in a flurry of fists and feet. She flicked forward, brought her hand up and broke the nose of the man about to attack her from behind. She leapt up one last time, delivered a roundhouse kick to the head of the last of the grunts then landed neatly, straightened up, brushed off her SHIELD uniform and turned around, her regulation short hair slipping slightly so a strand fell across her face. She was smiling but that faltered at the look on his face.

"What?"

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING!? I TOLD YOU, STAY BACK AND WAIT FOR TASHA AND HAWKEYE TO TURN UP!"

Her eyes flashed defiantly and then she dropped her gaze.

"I knew I could take them. I didn't want you hurt."

He snarled.

"You could have been seriously injured, and as it is, you're going to be reprimanded for disobeying a direct order."

"Oh, and **you** don't disobey orders all the time!"

"There's a **difference**!"

"What difference?! Tell me right here, to my face, what the difference is!"

"You're… You're…"

"I heal, just as well as you do. I heal, maybe even better than you do. I'm trained to a higher standard and can tell what an opponent is going to do just by watching them! And I couldn't just stand by and let them **torture** you!"

"SHIELD protocol states-"

"Who **cares** about SHIELD protocol! Sometimes, protocol is **wrong**! Because according to SHIELD protocol, you should have left me in that facility when you found me! I was a possible hostile and sleeper agent. Instead you listened when I **begged**, and believe me, that **hurt**, lowering myself to begging even when I was delirious, to be rescued! And I need to pay you back, because if I don't, then I'll always feel like I'm your inferior!"

And she stormed off, halting only to viciously pull a long-bladed knife out of the body of one of the men. Logan sighed. That **could** have gone better…

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6176 –Opposites<em>

He hated being pulled off a mission to do another job. But the Tigress mission was a long-term aim. It wasn't just enough to **kill** her. He had to humiliate her as well. He span a tale to her about having to go and work out of town. She said that she needed to go and see her family. They went to the station together and caught their respective trains. Now Logan was lying on top of a building, watching his mark, the sniper rifle trained through the glass. The mark was a weapons-dealer who had upset one too many people. Now the Wolverine was ready to kill him. Logan readied the rifle as the man walked into the view and then he swore. The lift had opened. He couldn't kill the man with a witness there. He needed to do it through the open window, without setting off an alarm so he could tidy his 'workstation' up.

And then he swore again. The woman walking towards the man was unmistakeably Mariya Romanova. The mark gestured imperiously, suggesting that he had mistaken her for someone else. And then the blade was in her hand. A single dull white spike and the mark fell against the window, blood streaking down. The Tigress leant down and then pulled out some bandages. The bloodstained clothes were removed; the fatal injury bandaged; fresh, clean clothes put on and she sat him down in a chair before cleaning the blood off the window and carpet. She stood up, placed a small piece of paper –the infamous 'cleaning bill'- in his hands, pulled out a black rose and rested it on his lap. Then she smiled, walked to the elevator and stepped in. Logan's eyes narrowed. Stuff humiliation! Soon as she stepped out that door at the bottom of the building, he'd shoot her right through the heart.

He waited then she stepped out. Smoothed down her jacket, put on sunglasses. She didn't look like she'd ruthlessly killed a man just minutes beforehand. She had her mobile in her hand but didn't raise it to her ear. Logan closed in on her. Right through the heart…

And then she pressed the hash key and his sniper's roost exploded. When he woke up after the surgeons had stitched enough of him back together for him to regrow the rest of his body, he'd started laughing. If it was a battle of wits she wanted, then it was a battle she'd **get**.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-19 –Being Normal<em>

"You're so full of yourself!"

Logan blinked. Marie looked **mad**.

"What?"

"You! Always bragging about this or that and it's never **important**. It's girls or hockey or something trivial and you act like it's such a big deal but it isn't!"

He stared at her in amazement. Her hair was slipping out of its neat coil, her eyes flashing dangerously and she looked **mad**. Okay, maybe he'd been bragging a bit about the football game but…

"And you're always so horrible to Scott, who's actually **okay**, just because he's dating Jean Grey and you're jealous!"

No… Not jealous, not anymore but habits are so hard to break…

"And then there was today in Sports when you **deliberately **attacked Pietro, for no reason whatsoever!"

There was a reason… He flirts with you. And you flirt back…

"And now you're just **sitting** there, letting me yell at you! Come on, you've attacked others on a lesser provocation!"

"I'm not going to…"

"Why? Is it because I'm a girl? I can hold my own! Come on! You're so full of yourself and you're always showing off! Come on! Attack me!"

She looked mad, her books slipping out of her hands as she shifted, allowing her bag to move to a more comfortable position. Her eyes flashed again.

"Come on! Stand up for yourself! Speak up for yourself! Give me a reason not to go sit with Wanda and Pietro!"

"I didn't know…"

"Oh, you didn't know you were always bragging, going on about how big you are, how the teams would fail without you, how you've done all this stuff for the school! You've the biggest head I've ever met!"

She was slipping, forgetting how to work her sentences, forgetting momentarily how to speak English. She'd gotten better since arriving here, with telepathic language courses but when she was especially emotional, she slipped, briefly getting her words muddled and confused.

"Look, I don't know **why** I do it. Okay, it's fine for **you**. You've all got memories. I don't remember anything from more than sixteen months ago!"

She snarled.

"Well, that's such a pity! You always do this, play the poor little lost boy card when you get in trouble! Well it's alright for **you**! I knew a girl in the Excalibur Academy who'd been chased away by her father, who called her an 'abomination'! I've met a girl who daren't show her face, even among her peers because she's so afraid we'll run away in terror and I've **seen** the scars on the back of another girl and my best friend there can't even **speak** because she was traumatised when people she **cared** about tied her up in a barn and set fire to the straw and the animals she has a psychic connection with **died** saving her! And even then her whole body is covered in burns! She's too afraid to use her mutation to meet new 'friends' like she used to have in the animals because she thinks they're going to die as well!"

And then she stormed off and went to sit down with Wanda and Pietro. Logan felt a sudden rush of anger when he saw Pietro hand over his uneaten lunch to her and go to get another for himself.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-40 –DragonBound<em>

She was leaning back on the silvery-blue coils of the Dragon, her face expressing her boredom at this irredeemably long Council meeting.

And then she leant forward, her eyes sparking.

"If there's a food shortage in the Eastern Regions, it's simple. The herds in the South more than enough for those living there. Simply send enough of the herds to the East and the Puma and Jaguar Clans. The Lion Pride has enough food stored for the rest of the season; a small dip in their stock numbers shouldn't matter and it could mean the difference between life and death for the cubs there."

"That has never been our way, My Lady."

She snarled.

"This is **my** way. I've starved before. As a cub and adult. I will not let the cubs of the Pumas and Jaguars die because I wasn't prepared to let the herds move to their lands. Draturo agrees with me. He has offered to help with the herding, to speed the movement up."

"My Lady, we have **always** let Nature…"

"No. You **haven't**. Only the Tigers have, living alone, relying on the wild herds, hunting as cubs. The rest of you tend to the herds, live in packs or prides or clans. You've never known what would happen if you missed a kill. The only times you've starved have been when the herds suffered, like they are in the East. I want the herds to migrate, be moved. It doesn't even have to be that many, just enough for them to survive."

The Councillors seemed to realise it was a futile prospect to argue with her when she was like this and nodded.

"It shall be done, My Lady. The next item on the agenda."

"Can we adjourn for a few moments? I need to consult further with Draturo." As if she wasn't always half in conversation with the Dragon at all times. She rose and walked out. Logan followed, knowing the Councillors wouldn't leave but instead talk in hurried whispers about how this DragonBound was too different, too wild. Logan moved silently but she still turned.

"What, Dog-Boy?"

"You care too much."

"What?"

"You've taken food from one clan to feed others. And not just any clan but the biggest and most powerful. You've made an enemy today."

"Are you saying I should let the cubs die?!"

"Yes. Because you've made deadly enemies. Anyway, clans that can't feed themselves starve. That's the way it's always been."

"Well, no more! I won't let anymore cubs starve because I couldn't do what I was meant to!"

Her face flushed and she turned away.

"What do you mean, let cubs starve?"

"It doesn't matter. Leave me alone."

She started to walk off but he grabbed her arm.

"Tell me!"

And then she snarled and Shifted, lunging right at his throat. He managed to Shift as well but there was only so much a wolf could do against a tiger, albeit an adolescent one. The thick ruff around his neck prevented her vicious teeth from severing his throat but he was struggling to get free. His main weapon was his teeth, she had her claws as well, one pawful of which were digging right into his back hip. And then there was a roar and she fell back, her head lowered as she moaned in agony as Draturo landed, the dragon snarling, not at Logan but at Tora. Then the tiger yelped and ran, all four legs moving as if she could only dream of being as far away from the Council and him as possible.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-1813 –First Impressions<em>

She was standing on the balcony, a letter crunched up in on hand, ignoring the festivities inside. James stepped out into the fresh air.

"Miss Circen."

"Mr Howlett. I'd better go back in…"

"No! You don't have to leave just because I'm here…"

She looked at him coldly.

"I rather think I do, Mr Howlett."

"What's wrong? Have I insulted you…?"

"No. Not **personally**."

"That implies I have insulted you in some way that I do not understand. Please tell me so I may remedy that…"

Her eyes flashed.

"I have heard you talking of Lady D'Ombre and your connection to her to Mr and Mrs Pryde. Are you not aware that she is one of the most high standing Jews in the country? You appear to be forcing Miss Pryde and Mr Wagner apart, something I do not understand as he is your friend. Goodbye, Mr Howlett."

And she stalked off, back into the crowded room leaving James cursing under his breath. Of course that had backfired. The Prydes knew what Kurt didn't, that he was a relation –the last living relation- of Lady D'Ombre. Cursing heartily, he walked back in, trying desperately to find her in the crowd. But to no avail.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-891 –Divided<em>

He'd been expecting something like this. Soon as Stark was removed as CEO of Stark Industries she'd resigned. Stark had planned it. She was the owner of the JARVIS Project and only worked on it with funding from his personal fortune. Logan had known that she'd take it badly. He hadn't expected Stark to ring him, gabble an excuse about finding his mobile on Marie's Starkphone and then said –very worriedly- that she wasn't answering his calls. Could Logan go over and check on her?

The door was locked and –when he tried to open it with his key- chained. He cut through the chain and forced his way into the flat. It stank of cheap red wine and uneaten takeaways. He checked the kitchen which was empty aside from the half-eaten Chinese and Indian takeaways; went to check the bathroom and finally checked the sitting room. She was sprawled out, leaning against the sofa, ignoring the boxes of wine and scattered glasses, pupils dilated and the needle still jabbed in her upper arm. He knelt down and tried to pull it out but she lashed out. Damn. MGH caused increased aggression. Her fingers were sparking and he had a sudden feeling that she'd taken electrokinetic powers. He'd heard Electro had started dealing MGH synthesized from his own genetic structure. She snarled and then sent a small lightning bolt at him. He dodged, swore and tried to talk her down.

"Marie, be reasonable…"

She snarled.

"I've lost **everything**! Job, life, meaning! I can't even pick up on the JARVIS Project because all my specialised equipment belongs to Stark Industries!"

"Marie, Stark is worried about you…"

She snarled again.

"Oh, he's **worried**, is he? Is that a nice way of saying he'd like to make me another conquest?"

He blinked. She was irrational and angry.

"Marie, you're not thinking straight…"

"I'm thinking perfectly well!"

And another arc of electricity shot towards him. He sighed, leapt forward then pinched the back of her neck so she collapsed, unconscious into his arms.

He pulled out his phone. The man picked up on the third ring.

"Stark, she's been doing MGH."

The following swear words were so varied and inventive that even Logan learnt quite a few new curses.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-10005 –Movieverse<em>

She was sitting outside, staring at the graves. It had been a few weeks and she'd calmed down slightly.

"Kid?"

She looked up.

"I am no child. And… I do have a name… I think…"

His eyes blanked for the briefest second and then he remembered.

"Tora. You called yourself Tora. I'd forgotten. There was so much going on, you were half-dead…"

She was staring at the Professor's grave.

"Why do you honour them so?"

"What?"

"The dead. From what you said, she killed the other two and many others. Why do you remember her so fondly?"

"That wasn't her."

She fiddled with her hair, winding it around her fingers.

"So when the men did…**that** to me, it's okay because it wasn't them?"

He looked at her sharply.

"That's not true!"

"Their eyes were silver. They never acted like the others did. Sometimes I saw them later when their eyes were different and they looked so sad at me."

"That's…"

She glared at him.

"She wasn't like that, was she? There wasn't someone forcing her to do what she didn't want to! She **chose** to act like she did!"

"She didn't!"

"I've read all your notes, all his notes. The only reason she didn't do that before was because he place blocks on her powers."

"That's not true!"

"Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like? To be so powerful and yet trapped. You'd be bitter and harsh and hate those who trapped you. **All** who trapped you. You'd want revenge, and you'd have the power for that. To eradicate those who stood in your way."

"Kid, that isn't the way to…"

She stood up and whipped around, **something** dangerous flashing in her eyes.

"You have **no** idea what it's like for me. I can hear them all calling, calling to me. Telling me what I need to do to be so powerful but I won't do it because if I listen to them, I will no longer be myself."

"Kid…"

"Don't call me that!"

And she marched off, her head downcast, and Logan swore he heard her sniff back tears.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-881 –Ξ and X<em>

"I'm back!"

"Here."

He followed the voice and the smells into the kitchen. She was frowning at the book open on the table, egg all over the unit. Flour was everywhere and there was a suspicious smell of burning. What looked like chocolate was smeared over her face.

"I think I've done something wrong…"

There was something so sincere in her voice that he had to laugh.

"What were you doing?"

"I was **trying** to cook something. I don't think it worked out that well…"

He glanced over.

"No wonder! I never touch these books. Far too complex for me!"

She looked so sad.

"What's wrong?"

"I… It's stupid…"

"No it's not. Tell me."

"I… I wanted to say thank you…"

"You don't have to."

She looked down.

"I want to thank you. I **have** to thank you."

"No. You don't."

She glanced back up.

"I **need** to thank you because I haven't got anything to give you in return."

"No. You don't."

She wasn't glancing anymore. She was glaring.

"You don't understand! I **need** to repay you! You've done so much for me! And if I don't pay you back, I'll be in your debt forever, every single day of my life."

"Listen, you don't owe me **anything**."

She shook her head.

"You're deliberately not understanding. If you keep doing everything for me, I'll never be able to pay you back. And I have to. Because if I don't, I'll just go from serving them to serving you."

"No! You don't have to do that!"

"I do. Because I was always **taught** to take and I need to forget what I was taught."

"I'm **giving** to you. You don't have to pay for it in any way."

"What if I **want** to pay you back?"

"This is just going in circles!"

He stormed off, leaving her standing with her head downcast, unsure of what to do.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-8076 –Wolverine &amp; Shadow + Marie<em>

"You can't have that room."

She looked confused.

"I… I don't understand… The Shadow said I could take any room…"

"Not this one, okay? It's Her room."

"Who's?"

"Listen, you can't stay here!"

She looked around the blue room, confused.

"I don't understand why not."

"Because She stays here."

"Who's 'she'?"

He snarled.

"If you have to ask, then you don't deserve to know!"

She tilted her head to one side.

"Was she dear to you?"

"Get out!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

She looked around the room, taking it all in. It was clean, meticulously dusted and all reflective and wooden surfaces polished brightly. It was all dark wood furnishings with deep turquoise or aqua blue coverings. The centrepiece was undoubtedly the wardrobe, with its paper screen doors and the silver dragons coiled around the handles. It matched the pattern on the bed, the inlaid panels and the sheets. In fact, when you looked closer, silver dragons were everywhere. Two wrapped around the mirror, the lamp was held up by the rearing serpentine figure, the lightshade was wrapped with dragons and another coiled around the chain. The cornices were twisting silver bodies.

"She liked dragons then?"

He snarled.

"Get out!"

"So who was she? A friend? A relation? A lover?"

"I said, **get out**!"

He lunged at her and she sidestepped him.

"Fine. I'll go. But I'm determined to find out about her."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-2182 –Professor W's X-Men<em>

She was shaking again. Shaking viciously, one of the attacks that couldn't be stopped just watched helplessly as she convulsed in agony. And then she was still, but only for the briefest of instants because now she was shivering in disgust at herself. He stepped forward, offering his hand for her to pull herself up but she refused, hauling herself up, obviously hating her self-perceived weakness.

"Who did that to you?"

She ignored him, instead dusting herself off and walking away.

"Wait!"

She stopped but didn't turn to face him.

"If you can tell us what they did to you, we can try and fix it."

And then she whipped around.

"**Fix** me? Am I an item that requires being tinkered with to fix it?"

"No but…"

"How do you know that they did that to me?"

"Because **no one** has attacks like that, with no warning whatsoever. What did they do to you?"

"They did **nothing** to me!"

She was defensive, hiding something.

"What aren't you telling us!?"

She snarled and tried to walk away but he grabbed her arm. She lashed out, leaving an angry red mark on his face.

"GET OFF ME!"

Her nails dug into his cheek, leaving bloody gouges that healed almost instantly.

"There's something you aren't telling us. We can **help** you. You just have to **trust** us."

Her lips slid back.

"Of all the things they've ever done to me, the worst by far was making me **trust** them!"

And then she tore free and ran, dropping to all fours for a furious lope that soon had her as far away from him as possible. He dropped his head in exasperation. That woman was going to be the death of him!

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6751 –Age of X<em>

He grabbed her arm.

"STOP!"

She turned back to him, her face and arms streaked with blood.

"Why should I?"

"They're running, that's why!"

She looked back at them.

"They attacked us."

"And now they're retreating. We don't attack those who haven't attacked us first. It's what makes us freedom fighters, not terrorists. We **never** attack first! And we let those who run, run."

She snarled.

"They didn't let Weaver run! He was trying to run back to his precious Vérité and they shot him in the back."

"We let them go! We show them that we're **better** than them!"

"I can tell you which one killed Weaver. I can see him running like the coward he is."

"We **don't** kill those who are running!"

She raised one eyebrow.

"And Laura's killers?"

He winced. He hated being reminded of the girl he'd promised to take care of, his **daughter **in all but name. Before she'd been killed, he'd have happily avoided the fight most other mutants took. But when he stood over her… Saw her murderers laugh, tell him he was lucky they'd got rid of the mutie scum… Then he'd snapped. Killed every last one of them and carried her out as far away from them as possible and screamed to the night. Etana had come as soon as possible, rocked him as he cradled her and then helped dig the grave. And then he'd gone with her and promised that every last one of those who wouldn't help Laura would die.

"That's been and gone."

She stared.

"You still grieve. I do not understand."

He laughed bitterly.

"No. You **wouldn't**. Because when it comes down to it, you aren't even **human**. You aren't human or mutant or anything like that! You're an unfeeling **robot**!"

She tilted her head.

"You act like that's a bad thing. Your reactions merely show that emotions are a weakness."

"WHO HURT YOU?! WHO DID YOU CARE ABOUT AND THEY HURT YOU THROUGH!?"

Her face went white.

"There was **no one**."

"You're lying. They hurt you, hurt you bad and so you actually kidded yourself into believing emotions are a weakness. You cared for someone and they did something… tortured them, forced them to betray you, made you think it was your fault for caring. And the guilt and the shame just piled up until it was easier to forget it all."

Her lips slid back in a snarl and then she turned, running after the fleeing attackers, running towards them –and away from her past.

* * *

><p><em><strong>A.N. <strong>__Apologies for the huge delays. It's just that this story is very different to everything else I've tried writing before but I've definitely got a system for writing it now. As for the next chapter, what would a fight be without a _Reconciliation_..._


	6. Reconciliation

_Disclaimer: This is a __**fan**__fiction site. Do you really think I own this?_

* * *

><p>Reconciliation<p>

* * *

><p><em>Earth-618 –Memories<em>

Her heartbeat was so weak they thought for a second it had gone. Only Logan had been able to sense the fluttering, dying heart, pumping the blood out of her wounds. Her breathing was laboured, every breath causing pain. Charles had called any and all doctors he could think of. Hank McCoy was there and Dr Strange. Apparently Reed Richards was offworld and the Avengers could only spare one Hank. Hank was the only one who dared speak.

"Oh my stars and garters. Charles, I'm not that good."

"I, however, am good enough. But my hands… I can show you how, Dr McCoy."

"Do ya think she'll survive?"

"Wolverine, with injuries this bad, it would be a miracle if she is remains in a semi-vegative state for the rest of her life."

As if to express her disdain for that statement, Tora's eyes flew open and she murmured a word, a name.

"Logan…"

"Impossible. No one with such extensive injuries should be able to speak."

"Logan…sorry…so sorry…"

A fit of coughing stopped this, spewing blood everywhere. The impossibilities of her ability to speak and react were pushed aside by the more important task of preventing any more blood from leaving her already deathly white body. Stitches were used but her healing rejected them. Under his blue fur, Beast was looking pale.

"I don't know what to do."

"If the contaminated flesh had been cut away as soon as possible she may have healed. As it is, her immune system has started ignoring the injuries."

"What if another healing factor was wired up to her? Cut away the 'contamination' or whatever and give her blood transfusions from another with a healing factor."

Everyone gaped at Wolverine.

"I remember it happening to me."

The flurry of activity that followed was frantic. Logan suggested direct transfer, while Hank was nervously removing the skin, muscle and intestines that had been torn into. Finally the thin needles and tubes were placed in her arm and Logan's blood, filled with the hormones that allowed him to heal, reached the fluttering, dying heart. As they watched, hopeful, desperate, the gaping wounds began to slowly, oh so slowly, knit together. The monitor of her heartbeat showed it strengthening, starting to beat in time with the other heart attached by the plastic tubing. Her golden eyes were open now but still slightly unfocussed. There was no fear in her eyes. In fact, her pupils had dilated, becoming almost round and finally not looking lost in her oversized irises. She looked calm and almost happy. At any rate, the pained look on her face had gone and there was a slight twitching around the eyes that looked like she wanted to smile.

"At the rate she's healing, we'll have to either take some of Logan's blood and inject it in at regular intervals throughout the night. Or Logan could remain here with his blood being used as a healing factor by someone who apparently hasn't spoken to him for two months."

* * *

><p><em>Earth 1610 –Ultimate<em>

The gun remained focused neatly between his eyes. She looked exceedingly calm, for someone about to kill another in cold-blood.

"Prove to me that you're honest and can keep a secret, else I will pull the trigger and not lose a wink of sleep."

He gulped, then finally spoke.

"If I were a spy, I wouldn't be so bleedin' stupid as to go to the spy-catcher and mouth off, would I? And as for knowing there's a mole, it's obvious, ain't it? We march off in one direction, the Jerrys are waiting, we march in another –still there. They know our moves before we do. And you. You arrive less than a month after this starts. You ain't no Wren. I can see that. They aren't killers. You are. I've seen the boys and I've seen the killers. You can always tell them apart. When they arrive, I can see the ones who'll live and who'll die –not because I can read the future but 'cause I can see a solider –a killer- at five hundred yards. They're the ones who'll survive, because they've got the stomach for it. And I look at you and I see someone who's not only got the stomach for it but the motive and the training. Tell me, who **do** you work for? That trains you to kill so quickly and efficiently?"

She stared at him then moved the gun away.

"SOE. That's all I'm telling you. But you seem sharp. How about a job?"

"What sort?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just keeping an eye out for me."

He considered then nodded. She held out a hand.

"Welcome to the espionage business. The world just got a whole lot scarier."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-523 –Witchkin<em>

She snarled at the man standing the doorway.

"I don't want your pity or your offers of friendship! I am Tora, the Dark-Runner, Pack-Sister of Cassa! And I don't care for your humans. I am Wildling and Wildlings will inherit the earth! This the Father Wild-King has taught us!"

"Rather pitiful isn't it."

The words were in Wildling and she span round to see Logan leaning on the doorframe.

"You act like you hate us all but you accept our food and our hospitality. By Wildling Law, that makes us Pack."

"You are no Wildling! You accept the humans!"

She noticed Rogers leaving quietly, leaving her alone with the third most powerful person in the household, after the Lady Darkwing and Lord Rogers. Max, the metal worker had a high level of influence but Logan was the most senior freeman, almost a bond-son for the Lady. And Wildling, but he had lost the right for any of the Father Wild-King's promises because of his acceptance of the humans. She snorted with the idea that he would have to make the Mate-Bond with a human or one of the weaker Witchkin. The Father Wild-King's instructions on them were ambiguous. They were kin, but only like dogs to wolves. They were to be treated with kindness but would not have the honour of being Wildling. And now she was alone with a Packless Wildling. Cassa had taught her the dangers of the Packless as opposed to No-Packs. No-Packs were normally either nomads who preferred to hunt alone or young adults striking out on their own to see if they could carve out a pack or join an already functioning one. Packless were those driven from their pack and who were to be shunned by all. And he was standing just out of her reach.

"I know you think I'm worse than dirt but you have to listen."

She didn't answer, merely sent a particularly filthy clod of straw his way. He dodged and caught her arm, ignoring her snarl.

"Etana and Steven are good people who care about all of humanity, Witchkin or not. You act like we're all dirt, but it makes you look bad. Hank's already a full freeman. And he was brought up three months after you."

She spat at him.

"You're just domesticated. You're worse than the humans!"

And suddenly he was pinning her to the wall, ice-blue eyes burning with a glacial fire.

"You. Know. Nothing. I wasn't made Packless for any reason other than my son was stronger than me and my Pack Leader decided my son suited his purpose better."

"Liar! No Pack Leader would chose to throw out a good hunter for politics."

"Yeah, but most Pack leaders don't pretend to be the Father Wild-King."

Her blood went cold. Romulus. The words had reached her Pack of two that the Father Wild-King was walking upon the earth again and all loyal Wildlings must go to him. Cassa had instantly made them run the eight nights until they reached him. And to their horror, they had been separated almost instantly. Cassa had been taken to the female area and Tora had stood in fear as the Pack Leader had stalked towards her. Then he'd laughed and clapped her on the back, asking her about her journey, offering her food. Then he introduced her to his Beta, a handsome young male who had made it quite obvious he was considering her as a potential Mate. She had almost taken him up on it. She couldn't do much better than a healthy, strong young Beta. Then she had realised the lack of females in the Pack and found its terrible secret. In total violation of the Mate-Bond, Romulus had herded the females into a pen for use by all the males. Cassa had been dying but she had given Tora a message. Romulus wanted her healing halter combined with the Beta's pheromone controls. As soon as she had produced a son, she would be culled. In desperation, she had fled, followed by her prospective mate. In her fear she had fallen into a hunter's pit and been sold to the slavers. She stared at Logan, a newfound respect in her eyes.

"You stood up to Romulus?"

"I guess you knew him?"

"He killed my Pack-Sister and tried to make me mate his Beta. A male named Daken."

Logan stiffened and she guessed instantly.

"He's your son, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

Tilting her head, she split her lips in a feral smile. Then offered out a hand to Logan who looked at it, back up at her then blinked.

"Really?"

"Of course."

He snaked out a hand and grasped it before raising his eyebrow at her. She nodded then began.

"Father Wild-King, hear our plea."

"Father Wild-King, hear our plea."

"Let the hunt be good."

"Let the hunt be good."

"Let the land be rich."

"Let the land be rich."

"Let the rest be long."

"Let the rest be long."

"Let the Pack-Song ring."

"Let the Pack-Song ring."

"Lead this Pack in their hunt."

"Lead this Pack in their hunt."

"In your eyes, we are sisters and brothers."

"In your eyes, we are sisters and brothers."

"Pack now and forevermore."

"Pack now and forevermore."

They released hands and nodded at each other. Then Logan grinned.

"I doubt you'll need those chains now."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-671 –Powerless<em>

He frowned when he heard the knock on the door. Etana wasn't due for another hour, though she could of course have got the times mixed up like she always did. Odd. She was normally late, not early. So he didn't expect to open the door and have Marie ram a bunch of flowers into his face and looked down highly embarrassed.

"Thank you."

"Whoa… What?"

She blushed, the red creeping up both sides of her face.

"Thank you for helping me move on."

"Er… Do you want to come in?"

She smiled shyly and stepped over the door, glancing round in curiosity. He'd never invited her to his house, knowing she preferred to be on **her **grounds, her turf. It made her feel safer.

She turned to face him.

"You came when I was at my lowest and snapped some sense back into me. So thanks for that."

He stared at her in surprise. She went even redder.

"I… I sort of had to look you up to find your address. You weren't in the directory so I… I asked Mrs Rogers… She said to come at four but… I couldn't wait."

James suddenly burst out laughing. She stepped back surprised.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Etana's supposed to be coming round at four. She **planned** this all… Crafty woman…"

She smiled slightly.

"She reminds me of a slightly scatterbrained angel."

James grinned at her.

"How did you guess? I always called her my guardian angel. She would have been my fairy godmother only she isn't my godmother."

Marie smiled again then looked around.

"What're you looking for?"

"Do you have a mirror?"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-987 –X-Change<em>

She heard the knock on the door and inhaled.

"Come in."

The door opened and Torao entered, looking highly embarrassed.

"I… I just wanted to… I'm sorry about my outburst. It was…not good… I was just…upset… You were making me feel…uncomfortable so I…lashed out. It was…inappropriate… I… Logan…Kristina told me… About… You know, Weapon X… I… I'm sorry… I didn't mean… I didn't think… Why is this so **hard**?! I… I should have known… They… They push you… They twist you… They can make you do almost anything… What they do to you… In the end, no matter…how strong… They still break you… And you do what they want you to… Just to stop them hurting you anymore…"

Logan shook her head.

"I've always been a killer –two steps away from an animal. They just gave me a little push."

Torao glanced at a chair then sat down, perched on the edge, looking highly embarrassed.

"I… I'm sorry…about what I said… I feel…"

"You deserved to let off steam."

Torao shook his head violently.

"No. I hurt you. I… I'm sorry…"

Logan stood up and moved over to the young man who averted his gaze.

"Torao, you were a kid. They hurt you so you lash out at the one you consider responsible. It's natural."

He looked away.

"I still didn't think… I should have..."

"Torao, it doesn't **matter**."

"It does to me!"

She looked at him and sighed.

"Look, it's okay. Forget about it. We'll pretend it didn't happen at all. I didn't snap at you, you didn't threaten me."

He smiled weakly.

"Thanks…"

"Now, can I check your back?"

Torao meekly pulled his shirt off, then turned, allowing Logan to start her check-up.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-9821 –Starcrossed<em>

He sighed. It looked like she wouldn't be here tonight, again. He'd come out here every day for the last two weeks, to their usual meeting place, hoping she would be there, waiting to meet him and let him apologise. But he hadn't seen her and the Brotherhood was being particularly quiet and she had been avoiding him. And then he heard her voice.

"Hey."

He turned. She was standing there, cloaked in shadows, holding out a polystyrene cup which almost certainly contained a coffee.

"I brought you coffee."

He took it but glared at her.

"Where were you?"

"Sorry. Big plan in the works, couldn't get away without looking suspicious. As it is, I now owe Raven two-hundred dollars for her standing in for me."

"What sort of big plans?"

"Well, we've been at Asteroid M for the last week and a half."

"Is that it?"

"It wouldn't be much fun for you if you knew what all our nefarious plans were."

She sat down and took a sip from her own coffee.

"Look… I'm sorry about last time…"

"It was my fault."

She glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Really, Logan? Is this some stupid 'hero' thing that you always have to be the one to apologise?"

He smiled softly.

"Nah. That's just a me thing."

She smiled at him and look back over the sleeping city.

"They're all so small, aren't they? The little people. I wonder how they can sleep at night, with people like **us** about."

"They know they're protected."

She glanced over at him.

"Really? I think it's just because they don't want to think about it."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-321 –Weapon Plus<em>

She tensed and relaxed as she ran, feet hitting the ground. This was good. Too long cooped up in her pen. Stretch limbs, run free. Leap, jump, revel in freedom. She reached the lake and leapt right in, enjoying the sudden rush of blood as she reacted to the cold water. She swam halfway round, making sure she stayed in the shallows. Then she caught the scent and swiftly hauled herself up the bank. Not good to be caught unaware or in the water, in a weakened position. She scurried up and got herself into a good defensive position. And then he stepped out, holding a small rabbit in one hand. He looked at her for a long moment then suddenly stuck out his hand and smiled.

She blinked. He jerked his arm, so the rabbit swayed from side to side. The message was clear. Yours. She pointed at it, then at her. He nodded. She smiled shyly and took it, then beckoned, hurrying back down to the lake. She knew he hated water, hated swimming. She padded along the bank until she came to the overhang and glanced down. She smiled when she saw the fish.

Lying down on her stomach, she dipped her arm in the water and slowly moved her hand up behind the fish, gently brushing it with her fingers, from tail towards the head. Slowly, carefully. Don't move too fast. Scare the fish. Reach the gills. One, two, three. Flip it onto the bank, cut the head before it flops back into the lake. She washed her hands in the lake then handed the fish to him. He smiled at her and she scooped up the rabbit, rear feet first.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-735 –Saviour<em>

He wasn't expecting the buzzer going off. He glanced down at the screen. She was standing there, her face framed in the snow, apparently staring at the speaker.

"Marie…?"

"Logan, is that you?"

"Yeah."

"Er… Can I come in to speak to you…? Or you come out to see me…? I brought a peace offering…"

She shook the bag she was holding so he could hear the familiar clink of beer bottles.

"Finest Canadian brew I could get this side of the border."

"I'll buzz you in."

He quickly glanced around then crossed his fingers.

"ELF!"

Kurt bamfed into existence.

"_Ja, mein freund?_"

"Look, there's someone come to see me. Could you take my place on security for a bit?"

"Why?"

"I'll share the beer she brought with you."

"Deal."

He hurried out, meeting her as she hurried up the drive. She blushed and held out the bag.

"Pax?"

"Yeah. Want to walk?"

She nodded and he steered her away from the house. Better not scar her with an introduction to the X-Men right now.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-3799 –Teaching the Gifted<em>

She could hear someone crying and was torn between opening the door and not. She didn't want to walk in on Anna-Marie crying because she'd split up with Remy **again**, but last time Jane had checked, she'd accidentally walked in on Kurt crying and she **liked** the German man. He was a good friend and so she'd resorted to dragging him out to get as drunk as possible and had pointed not asked why he was crying. So… either get cried on or go get drunk with Kurt…? Worth the risk.

She opened the door and was shocked to find Marc sitting on one of the shelves with his head in his hands. And okay, Jane was still mad at him but… really, the guy was still young –in his second teaching job and Jane admitted that she herself had wanted to thump Quire a few times and once Etana had dragged him up to Charles by his ear. Marc looked up and suddenly looked horrified.

"Jane!"

He wiped his face clean and looked ready to shoot out of the store cupboard and away. Jane purposely moved in such a way that flight would be impossible.

"Marc, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, trying to pretend his face wasn't stained with tears. Jane sighed and entered properly, sitting next to him.

"Quire's an obnoxious kid. I don't think there's any one of us who hasn't had the urge to chuck something at him. The pity was that he happened to have just flung a book at you and you caught it. You don't look convinced? Marc, Etana dragged him to Charles by his ear once. Yeah, seriously. And Peter –and you've met Peter, he's like a gentle giant- offered that he once felt the need to smack a canvas over Quire's head, regardless of the fact he'd spent three hours on that oil painting."

Marc didn't look convinced.

"I'm waiting to be dragged up to Charles and fired. I **knew** this wouldn't work out… I'm just a stupid kid barely out of uni, trying to be a teacher, playing at being an adult."

Jane sighed and wrapped an arm round the younger man.

"Marc, Charles has already talked to Tan about it. Quire provoked you –he attempted to attack you- and you responded. Maybe it wasn't the best way to respond, but seeing the number of times Quire's tried to set fire to the school, they've agreed that you can't really be blamed. We know that Quire's good at pushing all your buttons. It's how he works."

Marc's face was a mixture of relief, terror and something… Oh, great, he was going to open his big mouth now, wasn't he?

"I… I think I should go up to Professor Xavier and tender my resignation."

"Tana will never forgive you if you do."

Marc frowned.

"Why?"

"Tan has this…syndrome. She has to adopt all the waifs and strays. She won't let you go now she's got her claws in you. I was only supposed to come for a month until they found a permanent teacher. That was six years ago."

Marc allowed the slightest smile to twitch her lips.

"Why?"

"Tan had gone off and was doing a lecture on Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic at Cambridge University. Linking them together and so on. That's her field –that's what she got her PhD on. She's a doctor of language –its roots, its links, its influence. She's a historical linguist with a side line as a philologist."

"What?"

"Tut, you never learnt all these interesting academic terms for language studies? Philology is a study of languages from literature."

Marc frowned.

"Then why-"

"Why is she teaching in a school in Westchester? Isn't it clear? She's **Etana**."

Marc grinned.

"Is that your answer for everything?"

* * *

><p><em>Earth-21267 –Agents of SHIELD<em>

She walked out of Fury's office, her back straight and her face expressionless. She sat down primly and glared at him.

"Director Fury wishes to speak to you."

He entered and sighed.

"What, Nick? You're giving me **that** look."

Nick glared at him out of his one good eye.

"Be nicer to her."

"What?"

"Logan, this is your last chance. You **need** a partner and I've done my best but this is your last chance. If you mess this up, we're going to have to throw you out."

Logan stilled.

"Then throw me out. She's a kid. She shouldn't **be** here."

"Logan, what would happen if we let her go? Answer truthfully."

He sighed, because he already knew the answer.

"She'd be turned into an assassin and we'd end up having to take her out."

"Good. Now go. Apologise."

He knew when he was being given a dressing down, even if by Nick's standards it wasn't too harsh.

"I… Okay… Nick… Look…"

"By the way, Dugan and Jones are coming for poker tomorrow night. You come."

There was the dismissal. Logan sighed and saluted sloppily.

"Yes, sir."

He left the room and found her still sitting there. She made a slight noise of anger and got up, ignoring him as she started stalking down the corridor. He hurried after her.

"Tora… Look, Tora…"

She whipped around, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"**What**?!"

He closed his eyes.

"Thank you."

He heard the slight intake of breath. She was surprised. So very surprised. He opened his eyes. She was scanning his face, looking for any hint of deception. And then she smiled slightly.

"You're welcome."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6176 –Opposites<em>

Logan twisted desperately, trying to get free from the lump of debris which had trapped his leg before his opponent could attack him. But he couldn't and his gun lay just out of reach. His former target was staggering up, grabbing his gun and pointing it at his head, smiling cruelly.

"The Wolverine. Pity you didn't do your research. The Widow's organisation were contracted to act as my bodyguards. I've got the Tigress as my-"

He never got a chance to finish. The throwing knife came out of nowhere, hitting him right between the eyes. Logan wrenched his leg free and leant over to tug the knife out of the arms dealer's forehead. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, perfectly balanced and with an embellished tiger carved into the blade. Logan frowned.

Great, his true target had just saved his life. Tan was going to have a **field** day.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-19 –Being Normal<em>

Okay. How to apologise. This would be awkward but after she hadn't spoken to him for almost two weeks, Logan had come to realise the French girl was **good** at holding grudges. A little **too** good as a matter of fact. She ignored him almost totally, only reacting when he'd resorted to jumping up and down in her face shouting her name and even then she'd just glared at him.

He knew where she was. At this time, she'd be leaving the debating group and heading back to the dorms the long way round, through the gardens. He sat there, waiting by the small bust of some famous philosopher's head. He heard her light footsteps and got up waiting. As soon as she saw him, her eyes narrowed but she didn't say anything.

"Look…Marie…"

She brushed past him.

"Marie, I'm **sorry**! I've spoken to Scott, seriously! Please, can you at least **acknowledge** I exist?"

She glared at him which, admittedly, **was** acknowledging his existence but not the way he'd quite hoped.

"Look, I know I can be a jerk some of the time…"

"Only some?"

He glared back at her.

"Why am I even apologising if you're going to be all snarky at me?"

She stopped and stared at him. He stared back. And then, in complete unison, they doubled over and started laughing. Marie, in between gulping for air, managed to gasp out "Apology accepted."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-40 –DragonBound.<em>

He guessed where she would go. In the city, inhabited by the Lions who lived in the lower regions in large family groups and the Leopards who lived in the few spindly trees in ones or twos, the Tiger would go to the place neither claimed as their own but was closest to her home territory of thick jungle and heat. He headed to the thick clump of trees by the river, planted years before to satisfy the whim of a previous DragonBound, one of the Panther clan. He entered the grove and glanced around. Then he saw her, perched at the very top of a tree, crouched over and playing with one of her Clan symbols, the carefully carved bone beads that could hang from hair or neck or arm that could only really be read by others of her clan. He clambered through the lower, thicker branches with no real bother but when the branches became thinner, he had more difficultly. Finally, he managed to haul himself onto the branch.

"I… I'm sorry."

She ignored him, staring out over the flat savannah plains.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head.

"I miss my home."

"What's it like?"

She looked at him.

"In a word? Cold. I came from the Northern Tigers."

"There are different sub-groups?"

"Of course. There's the Mountain Tigers –they live in the cooler mountain jungles. The Bay Tigers live in the mangrove forests of the warmer southern seas. And then there are the Island Tigers. They're a bit…odd, to tell the truth. The whole island is one big warm jungle."

"And your home?"

"It's right in the north. I came from an area that even the Snow Leopards avoid. It's close to Man's Land. It's a wood, but… taiga… That's what the elvish scholars call it. There are trees but the woods are cold. In winter, it snows deep and long. In the summers, which are short, the woods come alive."

She continued to fiddle with the bone bead, a square carved with simple lines marked black. Circles, lines, squiggles, all interlocking in graceful patterns.

"What does that mean?"

She glanced at him and lowered her head, then turned it over so he could see that one side was entirely black.

"It meant I wasn't able to save him."

"Save who?"

She lowered her head.

"I told you I was in Man's Land. I told you I was captured. I managed to escape. But not before… Not before one of the men… Never mind."

"Please."

She sighed.

"I had a kit. I was barely more than one myself. I wasn't fast or strong or skilled enough to hunt for both of us, **and** keep him safe. He died in the cold. This was the bead from the first kill he ate from. When he was old enough, I would have given it to him."

"How… How old…"

"Not quite two summers."

"I… I'm sorry… I didn't know…"

"None of them know. They don't understand the beading. You're the first person I've told. Draturo knows, but… Well, Draturo knows everything about me."

He glanced back at her, taking in the tattoos on her face, the beads braided into her hair.

"Thank you."

Golden eyes darted over his face.

"For what?"

"For trusting me."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-1813 –First Impressions<em>

Fine. It wasn't as if a young woman who had never even been to London, who was painfully shy in the face of strangers meant anything to him… And that was where everything tripped up. Lady D'Ombre had always been **very** angry at those she considered 'self-deceivers' and had spent a lot of time teaching him exactly what those kind of people were. So he **couldn't **say she meant nothing to him. She intrigued him. The fact she could be both shy and incredibly stubborn at the same time; the way she was often to be seen walking when she could ride; seemed fiercely protective of those she cared about… So many contradictions…

He looked down at the empty sheet of paper. Then glanced at the floor which was littered with crumpled rejected letters. This was getting too difficult. So he decided to resort to standard D'Ombre principle. Tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and hope she'll accept his honesty.

Write what he could. Explain the relationship between Lady D'Ombre and Wagner –second cousins once removed, state his intentions of persuading the Pryde's about Kurt's intentions and suggesting that one of the conditions of D'Ombre's will would be a Jewish wife –not at all, but hinting worked- and how he hadn't wanted to be seen to be working behind the scenes because Kurt didn't yet know about his relation to D'Ombre following that brutal murder that had scandalised the high society of two countries. The family had been split in half and retreated to their homes –one half to the new seat in Northern England, the other remaining in Hanover. He skimmed over most of the sordid details, merely stating that an old family feud had separated the two and as the last of the D'Ombre lineage, Lady D'Ombre sought to bring one of her family to the seat at Hartlaw. He explained things simply, without any attempts to hide what he did or why he did it. He saw a little of Etana in her, someone who would appreciate frankness more than anything else. Finally, he finished, sealed it and got ready, knowing at this time she would be walking across the bridge after taking the food to her great-aunt. It was the matter of a moment to hand the letter to her, stiffly bow and walk away, hoping she wouldn't simply throw it on the fire.

Three days later, she found him on his walk and handed a letter back.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-891 –Divided<em>

She'd been 'away' for almost three months. Logan suspected that Stark had quietly shipped her back into rehab and given her a couple of nasty problems to work on. At any rate, when he'd been sent a set of car keys, an address to pick up a car from, an address to pick her up from and an address to drop them both off at, he assumed Stark still cared about his Head of AI Development. He parked outside the high walls of what **looked** like a high-class hotel. But then, what high-class hotel had no signs and an extreme surplus of cameras?

The small gate in the wall opened and Marie walked out, carrying a small hold-all. Was that all she'd taken? Really? She frowned then hurried over to him, opening the boot and throwing her stuff in.

"He really let you have this car?"

"Why, is there something special about it?"

She laughed as she sat in the front seat.

"This is his "not-Tony-Stark's-car-at-all" car. It's what he uses when he wants to pick friends up and he doesn't want the papers to know. A.k.a, this is the car I'm most familiar with."

"He drove you about a lot?"

She shrugged.

"Never learnt to drive. Logan, is that…?"

He hurriedly shrugged up his collar but she was frowning at him.

"Stop the car."

He was loathe to do so but he did. She leant over and gently pulled his collar down, revealing the electrical burn.

"I thought you healed?"

"Electricity's a bit of a weak spot. I'm basically a walking lightning rod, remember?"

She winced.

"I…I'm sorry…"

He shrugged.

"I've had worse. Seriously, electrical burns aren't…"

"But I did that to you."

He turned to face her.

"Marie, if you really want to apologise, promise me you won't use MGH anymore. It'll kill you."

She sighed, closed her eyes and leant back.

"I promise."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-10005 –Movieverse<em>

He'd avoided her as much as possible. She freaked him out –no denying that. Her steady gaze and quiet way of disappearing into the background made her a generally disturbing person to be around. Her comments had scared him a lot more than he let on. In a way, he wished she wasn't in the school –even in a place as big as this, her scent still reached his nose often enough to give him the shudders. And now he turned and leapt about a foot in the air, swearing wildly because finding her standing quietly behind him, having somehow crept up **without **him noticing was incredibly creepy.

"What the-!?"

She stepped back, raising her hands in a placating manner. Or what **would **be a placating manner if they weren't lethal weapons. He glared at her.

"Don't **do** that!"

"I am sorry. I… I am used to moving quietly. There would be…less pain, in the long term, for silence."

He twitched involuntarily at that. She talked of how to avoid pain in a matter-of-fact tone that probably belied the torture the simple word "pain" meant to her.

She looked…edgy.

"I…I wish to apologise for my earlier, erroneous statements regarding the dead."

He blinked at that.

"What?"

"I am apologising."

"Can you try and use a contraction, or is that out of your scope?"

She looked at him with something that could probably be described as exasperation then nodded. Paused, then shook her head. She shrugged.

"I can. I just find it…difficult."

He looked at her.

"Why the change of heart?"

She shrugged.

"Because I can."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-881 –Ξ and X<em>

Okay. Where was she? Not in her bedroom. Not in his either, which was a huge relief. Not in the bathroom. Not in the sitting room. Not in the kitchen. Not in the other two bedrooms. Not in the study, or the rec room or all the other rooms he had but he never used. Unless… No… It was well hidden…

He hurried to the room with the dustsheets, pulled back the correct one and twisted the bust of Prince Albert's ear. The door opened and he hurried into the training area.

She was moving amongst the training dummies, limbs flowing like liquid as she moved with the fluid grace of a true master of a martial art. As he watched she stopped punching the life out of a dummy then marched over and grabbed the staff he only kept because he was so hopeless with it.

She span it in her hands and continued her relentless attack on the dummy. And now he saw why Fury had been so worried about her. Someone like this –trained it what looked like about ten martial arts- couldn't afford to be outside SHIELD.

She was moving swiftly, the soft thunk of wood meeting padding echoing through the room. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Crack. Thump.

The staff had broken, her anger getting the better of her as she brought it swinging round towards the dummy's head. The head had been struck clean off and the staff broke in half. The remains fell to the ground as she staggered back, a look of horror on her face. And now he chose to spoke.

"It's okay. I normally break stuff when I'm here."

She started and leapt around.

"I… I realised there was dead space… So I worked out which room you went in and… I'm sorry… I should have asked…"

He shook his head.

"It's okay. Seriously, I said to treat this place as your home. That includes this room."

She looked embarrassed.

"I…I wish I could repay you…"

He grinned suddenly.

"Okay. I have a deal. Teach me how bōjutsu and that's your debt scratched."

The look on her face was one of surprise. He shrugged.

"I have a friend who keeps beating me around the head every time I go and see her."

* * *

><p><em>Earth-8076 –Wolverine &amp; Shadow + Marie<em>

He had been given the full dressing-down by Etana. The "How could you be so **stupid**, you bloody **idiot**, we **need** her to stay, you fool! She's **Her**, and you just alienated her! For pity's sake, it's her own **room**, let her sleep in it if she wants! Oh, how can I have raised such an **imbecile**!" rant that lasted a full two hours. The last time he'd been in this much trouble was when he'd fallen for Natasha –oh, and **that** had been painful. First Natasha, then her crazy Winter Soldier boyfriend and **then **Etana had told him that if he ever thought with anything other than his brain again, she would cut whatever body part **had** been doing the thinking off with a blunt flint axe.

So now he was standing in the sitting room, having been clouted round the head a few times and sent off with the order to apologise or get a smacked bottom and time on the naughty step –and Etana **would** follow through with that threat. And apologising would be nowhere **near** as humiliating as having **her** watch him being sent to sit on the second step. Whoever had told Etana about 'the naughty step' would die an incredibly painful death if Logan ever found out who they were.

She was sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking uncomfortable. Logan slowly walked over.

"Er…"

She turned and frowned.

"What?"

"I… I just wanted to apologise. Look, if you want that room… It's yours."

She shook her head.

"It obviously belonged to someone special to you. I can't take it."

He gaped. This **wasn't **how it was supposed to go. She pointed at the seat opposite. He sat, in a daze.

"Who was or is she?"

He closed his eyes.

"It's…complicated…"

Because saying "Well, she's you from the future and apparently we're married and that room is the one we apparently end up sleeping together in" would take a lot of explaining.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-2182 –Professor W's X-Men<em>

She was lying on the floor, her whole body convulsing violently. Hank was swearing and everyone else was trying to keep out the way of her flailing arms. And when Logan lunged in to try and hold her still, Hank roared at him to get back, unless he wanted to hurt her even more. Logan did as Hank said and felt such helplessness as her mouth twisted open in the wordless scream.

Three hours later and she was still only semi-conscious in the Medi-Bay. Logan hadn't left her side since then. Hank was running through ideas, having consider epilepsy before shaking his head and moving on. The big holoscreen that took up a wall in his office was covered in notes –not all to do with her as he often had a brilliant idea that would need writing down instantly. Logan clung to her hand.

"Come on. Wake up. You're stronger than this."

She didn't respond. He squeezed her hand.

"Don't let them break you. You're too special for that."

And a tiny amount of pressure was exerted on his hand. He squeezed back and felt her return it, slightly stronger this time. He allowed himself the smallest of smiles as they continued their practise of small squeezes and her strength gradually increased until he could swear she was up to full strength.

"Come on. Wake up."

And her eyes opened.

* * *

><p><em>Earth-6751 –Age of X<em>

He heard her cough. She did that to prevent him from almost stabbing her each time she crept up on him silently. He turned. She had her head down and she wasn't looking him in the eye.

"What?"

It came out gruffer than he intended.

"I…I wish to…say…say… I wish to ap… I wish to…"

He wanted to watch her squirm. He wanted to watch her trip over her words to apologise. But there was something in her eyes –something that was almost a flicker of emotion. She wanted to say "I'm sorry" but the implication would then be that she could **feel** sorry. She was struggling to speak and so he finally reached out and touched her hand.

"I understand."

Golden eyes looked at him with what could almost be called 'relief'. And then, as she turned to go, almost a throwaway comment, she made the biggest step in progress so far.

"Logan…"

"Yeah?"

"Her name was Eva."

* * *

><p><em><strong>A.N. <strong>__Consider this an "I've finished exams, hooray!" present from me. S-99_


End file.
